A la volonté du peuple
by BirdPower
Summary: Ron is gone. no one knows where he went. His family lost another son and brother, Hermione lost a husband and Harry lost his best friend and partner. It's been a decade since then and they've given up hope, that he's still alive. RonxHarry, some canon couples mentioned (for example past RWxHG and HPxGW) loads of weasley fluff, dealing with character death, memory loss. please R&R.
1. William

It was a wet December evening when William Weasley stepped out of the holiday house, where he and his family would be living for the next two weeks.  
This was a bland excuse for a holiday, he thought frowning and thinking of the summer holiday they missed because of his job.  
It was two days before Christmas and Victoire and Dominique, his daughters, had come from Hogwarts to spend the holidays with their parents.  
It had not the best evening, with Fleur being exceptionally irritable and the kids fighting over the beds, foods, places at the table.  
While he loved his wife and his children dearly, Bill was still a bit happy when it got quiet in the small house and he could slip out of the door after everyone went to bed.  
It was drizzling. Though unusual warm for this time for the year, but it wasn't the most pleasant weather to walk around in a Northern French coastal town.  
Keeping his head low he walked across the small marketplace towards the only pub in town. He needed a beer.

When he opened the door of the local _café des sports_ the brilliant sound of a bell made the few people present looked up in interest."Bonsoir M'sieur!" said the young woman behind the bar.  
"Good evening." answered Bill and smiled.  
The woman got a little nervous, and when she asked him clumsily stumbling over her words, what he wanted to drink, he assumed it was because she wasn't very confident about her English skills.  
He ordered, pointing at the beer tap to make sure she got it right.  
She blushed and smiled friendly before and a moment later a big cold beer was put down in in front of him.  
He tried to smiled as charming as possible and tried a friendly "Merci."  
Even after all this years of marriage, he was not able talk his wife's language...it was kind of embarrassing.

The few men at the bar had mustered him but now they returned to their slow paced conversation and Bill sighed happily after taking the first sips of his glass looking around the room. The beer tasted like happiness.  
There was advertisement for sports wagering, and a few yellowed pictures of the local football team at the wall. It was not the most expensive location, but it seemed clean.  
Behind the bar there was a door, that probably led into the kitchen, he heard plates clinking from there, probably someone cleaning up, since it was already a bit late for people asking for food.  
The door was slightly ajar and through the he could looked in the face of a child that mustered him with moderate interest.

"What's a kid doing here, that this time!" he muttered to himself not leaving it out of his eyes. He felt like had seen it somewhere before.  
It was a boy, perhaps ten or eleven years old, with unruly, jet-black hair, who was sitting on kitchen counter, a slightly steaming mug in his hands staring openly at Bills scarred face.  
" 'e is living 'ere." explained he bar woman with a shy smile and then said a few sentences in french to the young boy, which made the kid pout.  
The man next to him snorted in his beer, obviously teasing the child friendly. It was clear that the people coming in this pub were mostly regulars that knew the child well.  
In the kitchen a man laughed quietly and a freckled, big hand ruffled the boys hair.  
For a moment Bill thought he'd known this laugh, but he decided that it probably just his imagination.  
Still pouting the boy sat down his mug and jumped from the kitchen counter before it in his hand again.  
He didn't wear shoes.  
On obviously hand-knitted, maroon coloured socks the boy padded in to the main room, and climbed on the empty barstool beside Bill. Brown children eyes stared admiring at the scars on his face. "How'd you get those scars, M'sieur?" he asked with a light French accent.  
Bill laughed friendly and took a sip from his beer before answering. The boy copied him, drinking what seemed to be hot cocoa.  
"I fought with a wolf." Bill grinned broadly seeing the boy's face light up "Cool." he marvelled.  
"I'm Bill. Wanna tell me you name? You English is very good!" he reached out his hand and the child took it and shook it with laughing "Merci ! I learn English in school and Henry can also speak English." the boy nodded in direction if the kitchen. Henry was probably the name of the cook.  
"I'm Fréderic, but everyone calls me Fred."  
Bill gets quiet for a moment the face of his little brother ghosting through mind.  
"that's a good name." he answered trying to ban the sad undertone from his voice. "I had a brother with that name."  
loudly slurping his hot cocoa the boy still mustered his scars. "did he also fight with a wolf?" the kid asked interested.  
Bill just wanted to answer when a deep voice from the kitchen startled him.  
"Fred even if you've got holidays, you can't stay awake forever. Stop dilly-dallying and drink out your cocoa. It's high time that you go to bed." Said the man in the pub's kitchen with a British accent that sounded too much like his own, to not look.  
In the next moment Bill choked on his beer and the man next to him slapped his back until he was able to breath again.  
"Ron?!" he croaked.

There was no mistake in his mind that this was Ron.  
The blue eyes, the, slightly too big nose, red hair, the lanky limbs, and the tell-tale scars on his bare arms. He'd recognize his little brother anywhere.  
"What are you doing here?!" In every other situation it would be slightly embarrassing to tear up like that, but after assuming that your baby brother died a painful death 10 years ago now seeing him suddenly appear alive and healthy in front of you, only very few things are really embarrassing.  
a bar stool cluttered to the ground and the bar woman can't stop him from hurrying behind the counter and yanking Ron on a bone crushing hug,

Bill didn't know what to do, so he's did the only thing he can think about right now...asking his brother.  
When he's talking about "his brother" it is always clear that it is Charles he's talking about.  
He's the closest to him in age and they spend years in each other pockets. Charlie is more a friend than a brother, different from the rest of his younger siblings.  
And he's great when it comes to working out strategies. Less emotional than Bill, less involved with people. He's good at finding solutions and he's naturally gifted in interpreting behaviour, may it be a beast or a human.  
Bill flooed Charlie the same evening.  
Poking his head out of a fireplace in Romania, he saw his brother feeding a young screeching dragon. Charlie didn't look up from the animal while talking with him.  
"What's wrong,Bill." he muttered with stuffing a day-old chicken in the dragon's maw.  
"I think, I found Ron..." Bills voice wasn't more than a whisper.  
"You've got to come and tell me that I have't gone mad."

Charlie arrived the next morning during breakfast, Bill asked Fleur to take the children and go to the beach and she did without asking. That one reason why he loves her. Because she understands. There is a deep trust between them that Bill hasn't found with anyone else in his life.  
And she's okay with this chaos of a family of his...a lot of his former girlfriends wouldn't have even survived one day.  
Charlie and Bill spend the rest of the morning on the old wooden bench in front of the little holiday home. It was a market day and on the place in the middle of Rue there were a handful of stands selling clothing and agricultural products. They were drinking a cup of tea and watched the few people buying and selling goods, while Bill told Charlie about his meeting with their youngest brother.  
"He pushed me away, called me a bloody pounce and hid in the kitch...Hey! There's the boy!" he interrupted himself.

Fréderic Dupont left the door to the _café des sports_ and ran towards one of the stands, obviously buying something the market woman obviously knew the kid, but didn't seem to be overly happy to see him. The boy's face got dark for a moment and Bill thought he'd say something, but the kid just turned around and went a few steps away bringing.  
The young Fred looked around scanning his surroundings then he starred at the apples of the woman's stand...and over a dozen of palm-sized spiders scuttled over the fruits she wanted to sell. The woman screams and people stumble backwards, away from the spiders  
Bill's eyes got big.  
Before he can say anything about what an impressive piece of magic that was from such a young person, Charlie lifts his wand and transforms the spiders back into apples.  
A side glance shows how much Charlie disapproved using animals for this kind of "fun", when Bill looked back to Fréderic again, the boy's eyes were similar big and surprised as his own, staring at the wand and then at Charlie and then he started to run.  
"You're weird too!" he croaked breathless when he finally arrived putting his a big basket filled with all kind of vegetables on the bench beside Bill.  
"You're like me! You make stuff happen!"


	2. Molly

It was a short note that arrived at Molly Weasley's home on this afternoon. It was Charlie's writing, which was always worrying, since he was a even more lazy in send letters to his mother than his brothers. He barely visited his family more than once a year.  
With slightly shivering hands she took the letter of the express owls hand and opened the envelope.  
"Mom" she read."You need to come and bring everyone with you." under the letter was an address in Rue, France. She knew that Bill and Fleur during the Christmas holidays (She'd was very unhappy about them not wanting to visit the burrow for Christmas), so Charlie was with them, which meant that something was really wrong.  
She called Albus and and Lily, the children of her daughter Ginny in the house. They'd played in the she flooed her husband and send urgent owls to all her children.  
If Charlie says everyone has to come you could trust he needed help.

When she arrived in the little village at the channel there about half an hour later she was close to tears. "Charlie!" she screamed and her second oldest spread his arms so she could run into his arms, the kids following behind her.  
"It's okay, stop crying." he muttered, patting her back awkwardly until she had calmed down enough to look up.  
Through her watery, pale eyelashes she saw a boy, with black, messy hair and a face that just looked too much like..."Harry!" she whispered in disbelief.  
"Not exactly. He's called Fréderic." grinned Bill who stepped out of the door of the little house in front if her. He's one of the reason we wanted you to come." she nodded numbly, finally letting go if the boy.  
"B'jour, Madame! I'm Fred." the boy said politely and reaching out his small hand that she took it in her own, ignoring the sting in her heart when she heard the name of her dead son.  
"Nice to meet you. Fred. I'm Molly Weasley and I'm very sure that I'm your grandmother." the boys eyes got big, but he laughed.  
"I don't even have parents how should I have a grandmother!" he snorted and let her hand go, a distanced look later he took the basket in his hands, stumbling slightly until he balanced out the weight.  
"Excuse me, but I have to go back. Henry gets angry when I'm not on time for déjeuner." he rambled and ran towards the pub on the other side of the market having it obviously hurrying away from Molly and the others.

An hour later the family was almost completely present, just Ginny, Molly's youngest child, and her older brother George were still missing, being not able to leave work so suddenly.  
Fleur had come back from the beach they'd started cooking a meal for all the people around.  
Since the desk was too small the kids were sitting on the stairs, a bowl of fresh fish soup on their knees.  
"the thing is..." said Bill rubbing his face tiredly. "...we...Charlie and I... think that this little boy, Fred, is our missing nephew James." he looked like had no sleep last night.  
"I went to the pub across the street last night to drink a beer and the cook, that is the kids guardian..." his voice broke, and looked around them as if searching for the right words.  
"...I think it is Ron." he finally managed to say quietly.  
"Don't you f*cking dare to make jokes about this and bring our hopes up." whispered Percy, raw hurt in his eyes. Molly winced at his words. It was very unusual for hier third son to use "bad words".  
Arthur arm cramped around Mollys shoulders as she watched her children trying to not cry again.  
"I'm sure he is. He looks like him, he talks like him... the scars in his arms...it's him!" stutters Bill the water in the glasses shivering from the wild magic, fueled by emotions.  
A moment later Percy rushed out of the house and towards the café des sports "Percy! Wait!" screamed Bill and the glasses on the table exploded, but Percy didn't listen and they saw them close the door of the pub behind him.  
"Shit!" muttered Bill sitting down again. Fleur was on her feet and fixed the broken glasses with a swing of her wand faster than Molly could react.

"It's not like we can all waltz in there and take him with us." Charlie takes over explaining avoiding to look up. "Bill's sure he doesn't remember us. We don't know what happened, but he gave himself and James another name and he treated Bill like a stranger."


	3. Percival

If there was one thing that Percy Weasley hated about himself and at the same time found extremely convenient, it was that he was very unremarkable.  
In comparison to his brilliant, handsome, courageous brothers, this was what actually made him special. he always looked like the odd one among the Weasley children and he hated it so much to be overlooked when growing up, that the strive to work hard to be accepted became an essential part of his personality.  
However now it was a good thing that he was actually a quite boring person. He wasn't the type to hug someone on public, like Bill...well except for back then, in school, when he thought his brother would have be in danger at the ground of the sea at Hogwarts.  
Ever since Ron was old enough to crawl, quit, nerdy Percy had seen his youngest brother as his responsibility. He was the one who would secretly set up traps so the twins had to leave the baby alone. He'd been the first one at the toddler's bed is if started to cry.  
And after the birth their sister, he was the one Ron shared his room with, since he was too young to sleep alone yet. He was the one to teach the young boy the first words and he pushed himself in the crossfire of the twins, when he felt Ron was harassed too much by them.  
Percy was always in the background, watching his little brother, worrying and hoping that everything would go well, but every time he intervened or tried to help...it somehow didn't work out.  
He did some things...a lot of things...wrong... but in the end his loyalty still belonged to his family, his brothers, his sister, his parents, and now his own family.  
Percy was just really bad in communicating with people, especially when he cared about them.

Percy was so average that no Muggle would ever get the idea of him attempting to do any kind of magic.. He also, through his work and his father, had enough insight in the Muggle culture that, he could blend in almost perfectly in this magic-free society.  
"Bonjour." he said politely, when he entered the room, before folding himself on one of the bar stools.  
The Pub was almost empty, except of a man behind the bar, that was around his own age and cleaning the counter with a dishcloth and a few men drinking their beer in silence. It wasn't even lunchtime.  
The men didn't even lift their head, Percy Weasley was too normal to actually gather their attention.  
There was no trace of Ron to be seen.  
The wrinkles around the man's radiant blue eyes curled in a friendly smile and for a moment Percy had the feeling he knew that guy but then the man open his mouth and spoke with an accent that was obviously neither French nor English, so he dismissed the thought.  
"Goot day!" the blond man laughed. The consonant at the end of the first word sounded a bit too hard. "You're English?" Percy nodded mustering him with a shy smile, trying to place the accent.  
" Yes, My family is on holidays here."  
" Bit unushual in de middle of winta... most people come in summa..." was the answer the man put away the dish cloth and started to clean some glasses.  
"We're a big family...It's cheaper in winter." Percy shrugged rubbing his arms absentmindedly. He ordered a coffee. It was decidedly too early for anything alcoholic.  
"Where are you from from? Your accent doesn't sound French." he asked calmly watching the bar man fixing him a bowl of café au lait.  
The man was of medium size, a little bit chubby around the middle and slightly more muscular than him and Ron. Almost hidden by his hand-knitted jumper, in a holster at his right forearm, stuck a wand.  
That man was a wizard.

There was a wizard close to the man that was potentially his long lost brother.  
Percy tried hard to not show his sudden distrust and continued to smile innocuously.  
"My Mama's Sherman, my Dad's English, but he wasn't much arount. I'm not even sure if he rememba's me. I grew up in a little Village call't Sorge... forma Eastan Shermany. My name's Jan."  
"Percy." the redhead introduced himself reaching out his left hand and and Jan copied the move without a thought and they shook hands with a friendly grin. "How did you know I was left-handet? normally people woult offa de right hant not de left one." asked the barman putting down the bowl of coffee in front of Percy. A grin, that unusually mischievous grin graced the Weasley's face for a moment when he answered.  
" People wouldn't wear their tool on their right arm like that, if they're right-handed. It would be difficult to reach."  
The man radiant blue eyes searched his for a moment, now knowing that they both were part of the wizard community, but he didn't comment on it. There were still Muggles around.

"You're here because of Henry." Jan said cautiously.  
"It not too ovalook, that you two are related. You look awfully similar. It's goot dat he's not arount right now." he muttered starting to wash glasses again, while Percy took the first sip of his café au lait.  
" My Brother Bill..." mumbled Percy looking down on the bowl.  
"He's really here for holidays and went in this pub to drink a few beer yesterdays." he sighed massaging his temple.  
"He's dead certain he's seen our younger brother Ron working here. He says he's seen his scars. The scars on his arms are pretty unique, so... " he stopped rambling, forbidding himself to hope until he had a proof, until he's for himself.  
Jan stared down sink.  
"We lost our brother and our nephew around ten years ago. They just vanished and noone was able to track them." Percy's gulped. His voice became bit thin and trembled a bit when he continued.  
"We thought they were dead."

"Henry tolt me, dat your brodder vas dere." muttered Jan his golden-blond locks falling in his face hiding his eyes.  
"Your brodder did something pretty stupit. Hugging him out of nowhere. Henry was pretty confuset and angry." he sighed.  
"look, please drink up, and go back to your family. Tell them to stay here but don't come over until I give my okay. Ve've got to do dis de right vay." the barman's voices not more than a whisper.  
" It coult be right. Henry and Fréderic came to Rue nine or ten years ago, after staying in Amiens for a vhile, because Henry doesn't remember anythink about his past. I'm pretty sure dat someone deleted his memories. Memory changink was the speciality of my dad until he got crazy...but removink memories of a whole life is an extremely stronk obliviate, if you guys storm in here like dat, it coult mess with dat and drive him into madness. Ve shouldn't do dat vithout knowink vhat kind of spell this is."  
Percy just wanted object. He couldn't stay away. He wanted to see for sure that Bill wasn't wrong, that the man working here was really his little brother...but Jan solved that for him.  
"See dere at de vall? Dat photo is Henry shortly after he arrivet here."  
Percy emptied his coffee bowl and got in his feet to step closer to the wall.  
It was a Muggle photo showing a young, redheaded man in his his twenties. He was a bit too meagre to be handsome and if you looked closely you could see delicate scars meandering up and down his bare forearms. The sleeves of his maroon coloured hand-knitted sweater were rolled up and if you looked closely you could see a yellow "R" was stitched on it, right above the heart.  
In his arms there was a toddler with black, tousled hair. There was no mistake.  
"this is him." Percy muttered, willing away the tears in his eyes.  
"would you give me that photo?" Jan hesitated but then he nodded, taking the picture frame down and removing the photo gingerly putting it in his hands.  
"Please be patient." he whispered and smiled sadly. Percy nodded.  
He put a few Euro coins on the counter and made his way to the door waving his hand before leaving the pub and striding towards the holidays home of his brother's family.


	4. Ginevra

It was already past lunch time when Ginny Weasley, manager of the Holyhead Harpies, came back to her office after long and tiresome negotiations with Puddlemere United to give their keeper to the Harpies.  
She was just about to decide what she'd eat now that she finally had time, when she noticed and express owl sitting on her desk twittering impatiently.  
She noticed that the envelope at the owls legs had her mothers writing on his and hasted to the table putting a few Knuts in the little sac that was knotted to talons before opening the letter.

Not a minute later she arrived in Rue, France, panic in her eyes while looking for her children.  
It was cold, it rained and she didn't know where to search for her family, she was hungry and tired and just so terribly scared.  
"MOM!" screamed a high child voice behind her and then Albus came running towards her.  
His usually black hair was bright orange and there were fingerprint-sized freckles in his face.  
"What, by Morgaine's knickers, happened to your hair?" she muttered dumbfounded, trying to calm down the crying child.  
"Fred hexed meeee~!" cried the boy.  
For a moment she entertained the thought of her brother Fred hexing her son's hair red to match the rest of the Weasley family. It would have been something her brother would have considered as funny enough to do it.  
Then she reminded herself that he was dead and hid the face in her son's glaring orange hair, crying a bit, because life was shitty and she'd been so scared of her children being hurt.  
When she lifted her head again, the doors of one of the centuries-old , small stone houses around the little marketplace had opened and a Bill stepped out. He smiled at her, but the smile reach to the eyes, that still looked worried.  
"come inside, Ginny! It's cold." he called her and she followed his command, gently pulling her son behind her.  
Albus was still sniffling, but stopped crying after his Grandmother brought his skin and face back to their usual state, muttering under her breath something about being happy that it was just one of these troublemakers in this generation.  
A bowl of fish soup was set down in front of her and both her children chattered about the interesting boy named Fred, that obviously left a strong impression on them, even though didn't really seem like Albus forgave him for his prank.

"Mum, you for sure didn't sent me an express owl in my office to tell me that my kids found a 'friend' that hexes their hair orange." she sighed, slightly relaxing, now that she knew that none of her children was in ultimate danger.  
A loud slam from the door.  
"It's not about what he does, it's more about who this child is." Percy sounded a bit too pompous and triumphant, Ginny was almost expecting Bill or Charlie make a snarky comment, but they kept quiet while Percy put a Photo the table.  
"I think a maroon coloured Weasley jumper and his scars are enough to clearly identify him, since there'd be no reason for anyone to fake being him." Percy grinned proudly and added then "Sometimes it is better to look harmless and ask the right people than go on and randomly hugging them!"  
Bill started laughing and pulled protesting Percy in a headlock to ruffle his hair roughly while praising him for being "a good boy". Mum muttered something about Bill being almost forty and still acting like a child then looked at the picture.  
Ginny followed her gaze and squeaked a little when she noticed that the photo obviously showed her brother Ron and her own little baby boy, James. The baby looked slightly older than when they'd gone missing, but not much.  
"this must been around eight weeks after we lost them." muttered Mum with a melancholic smile. "Look how small, little Jamie still is on that picture."

Percy looked slightly dishevelled when he finally managed to get out of Bill grip. He sat down and started to readjust his cloths, while he meant.  
"I actually planned to come back to you early... stood already in front of the door, but then I thought a bit of research could perhaps help..." a thin smile on his face he filled a cup with tea.  
"Henry Dupont was brought to the hospital in September 2005 after Muggle officials found him disoriented close to the cathedral of Amiens, cradling a crying child in his arms. Since he couldn't say his name and they couldn't find any information about him in their data base, they called him Dupont, which sees to be a very average name for a French Muggle.  
The baby, we presume that it is James, was named Fréderic.  
Henry choose both of their firstnames, after they read some names out loud trying to make him remember his own name." he took a sip of tea.  
"He didn't want to let go of the child and since there was no child missing around Amiens that fit the description they did a blood test...  
Oh come on, Mum! Don't look like that! They didn't hurt them!  
Muggles aren't totally stupid... what they did was actually pretty clever for someone without magic! The Muggles tested his blood and the child's blood and found out that, while not father and son, they must be in some way related and the Muggle-healer in charge, together with some official that has something to do with supervising under-aged people, decided to leave them together, so that the boy wouldn't lose his attachment figure."  
Ginny felt tears on her face, gripping the photo in her hands a bit too hard almost not noticing her little girl Lily trying to get on her lap.  
"At least that's the official version." continued Percy.  
" I think there's more behind this though. This looks far too simple! He must have been not able to speak French at the beginning, so why didn't they call their british collegues asking for informations? Also...no person right in their mind would give a man that has no job, can't show any proof for his education level or even his identity take care of a baby! I think it has to do with a woman named Marine Lockhart, that was in the same institution as "Henry."

A Muggle woman that found out that her child was witch, lost her mind over it and tried to kill it. Her husband, Jan Lockhart, is the son of Gilderoy Lockhart, who we know was relatively talented when it came to memory charms."

Charlie looked down in his half-eaten bowl of cold fish soup.  
"You think this Lockhart-guy made Ron forget his family? He wouldn't have any reason to do that!" he grumbled doubting.  
Percy shook his head.  
"No, but I think he was a young man, that just found himself with a psychically unstable wife locked up in a mental institution and a four-year-old to care for.  
He was overwhelmed with his situation and then met this young man, who had scars that were clearly caused by magic and who's with toddler that already shows magical talent and he decides to help him, by manipulating the people in charge for the decision were to place the child. I suppose it made him feel better to know there were still people that had bigger problems than him and it felt good to him to help Ron."  
Percy empties his cup and and grins.  
" Around 10 years ago Henry and Fréderic Dupont get registered as residents in Rue and they move in one of the two apartments above the bar." he points with his thumb outside the window.  
"in the other appartment lives Mr. Lockhart, the owner of the house and the bar, with his daughter Pauline.  
I suspect he keeps an eye on Ron and James and makes sure, that when James displays any kind of magic, he obliviates Ron so he won't get all messed up, like his wife Marine."


	5. Hermione

In the little hamlet Caldbergh in the county of Yorkshire, Hermione Granger came home from her workplace in the ministry of magic, kissing her husband Victor hello, who was still busy cooking dinner.  
After retiring from his Quidditch career, he has become the caretaker of the Krum household and raising Hermione's daughter Rose, the child from her first marriage, and their son Hugo.  
"everything okay with the kids?" she said nuzzling the curve of his neck with her nose and patting his butt affectionately.  
Before Victor could answer a silent cough let her twirl around to look in the amused green eyes of Harry Potter.  
"Sorry." he said and a grinning broadly and not looking like he was sorry at all.  
"it's nice to see you two happy like this." he smirked, leaning against the frame of the door that lead to the living room.  
Hermione gave her husband a last peck on the cheek then she went to hug her old friend.  
Harry smelled of old sweat, dust and the use of too much potions at once. The unglamorous smell of a man who barely slept and spent his live hunting black wizards.  
The smell of an Auror.  
It was the first time in half a year she's seen her friend and she was sure that he didn't even went home to take shower or change his cloths yet let alone visited his ex-wife and his two children.  
"Go take a shower, Harry! We can talk afterwards." she ordered and he nodded, trying to hide a yawn before leaving the room.

Around twenty minutes later her little family of four and Harry sat at the table.  
Harry still looked very tired but he didn't look as shabby as before. The unruly hair still wet from his shower and freshly shaved. Victor had given him some of his clothing, so they could properly clean them before he went to his next mission.  
While they were around the same height, both barely taller than Hermione, Harry was a lot thinner than Victor, now that the latter stopped being a professional athlete. The cloths were bit too big for Harry.  
He looked exhausted but that had always been the case since Ron was gone. While not thinking about in when he was still around, Hermione suspected her first husband actually took care of Harry quite a lot to make sure he ate and slept enough and didn't neglect himself too much.  
"I wanted to see if everything was okay with you before I get going again." Harry was hastily eating the Yahniya in front of him.  
He probably hadn't eaten a proper meal in a long time.  
"I also tried to visit the Burrow, see if the kids were there and asked at Ginny's office but they're all out. This food is awesome, Victor! You're the greatest!" he complimented the cook with the fast smile.  
"Are you worried?" asked Hermione taking a few bites herself, mustering Rose who had brought her book with her to the table and didn't stop reading while eating. "Put the book away, dear! It is respectless towards the cook and you'll get food on the pages." she said with a authoritarian undertone.  
The girl grumbled and her freckled nose wrinkled unhappily with her mothers order, but she did as she was told and brought the book in the living room before getting back to her food.  
"No." muttered Harry, rummaging in his collar until he pulled out a little round pendant and laid it down on the wooden surface of the kitchen table.  
It was a tiny night blue sphere on a silver necklace and two little start sparkled happily in it.  
"It the present you got from George when Al was born!" she smiled taking it carefully in her hands and Harry nodded.  
" Look! If the stars get red, the kids are in danger. A bit like Mrs. Weasley clock."  
Hermione just wanted to give it back when she saw a third dot. It didn't sparkle, it was just dark.  
"that's James." Harry lowered head so that his hair hid his face.  
"George said he was really sorry that he didn't give me this present earlier. Then we could can put Jamie in it too and we'd have at least known when he died."  
She got in her feet and hugged him quietly.  
"George still believes they're alive. I think he just can't accept the thought of having lost another brother."  
Hermione bit his lips to stop herself from crying from the corners of her eyes she could see Victor taking Rose in his lap comforting her.  
Rose was a strong girl and he loved her adopted father dearly. But growing up knowing that you can't meet your father is still sad and seeing your mother cry over this father probably is also not easy.  
Hermione let go on Harry hurrying to her husbands side, hugging both, daughter and man.  
Harry ruffled Hugo, who was watching them slightly confused, put the necklace back on and left the house with a silent "sorry, I need a few minutes..."

When Hermione followed him in the garden it was already getting dark and the first stars filled the sky.  
She sat beside him on the steps of their veranda, shivering slightly. It was already december after all.  
After a few minutes Harry finally broke the silence still staring in the clear night sky, avoiding to look at her.  
"I admire you two...you and Victor. You made it work. You raise these kids together...and you...I'm so happy to see you happy together." Hermione heard the unspoken sentences in this. Him accusing himself, because he couldn't make his family work, that he couldn't take care of his marriage and children the way he wanted , that he just couldn't function properly when his best friend wasn't there.  
"I miss them a lot. My baby boy and Ron. I thought it would get easier with time. I've lost so many important people in my life, I should have learned how to mourn in a way that it doesn't hurt others. But it's still difficult." Harry blinked a lot, probably to keep his tears from flowing.  
"It different when it's you own child...or your..." Harry obviously was searching for the right words.  
Ron's and Harry's friendship was still difficult for her to comprehend after all this years.  
There was deep trust and knowing each other blindly, while picking fight at the most useless moments. They had been in such a close symbiosis that she'd sometimes felt jealous of both of them. Her husband and her best friend.  
And now Ron was gone.  
And Harry didn't know how to cope with the world without him and neither Ginny nor Hermione, nor anyone else could fill the hole that Ron left.  
"I miss him too." muttered Hermione and slapped his shoulder helpless before going back into the house.


	6. Charles

Charles Weasley had spent the night at home, in the little hut that belonged to the Dragon sanctuary.  
He had fed his fosterlings, one after another, had checked for wounds and cleaned the area of dragon dung giving it to the laboratory for further research, then he had apparated to Northern France to join his family again.  
Charlie didn't exactly know how he felt about the sudden proximity with his family again... he wasn't the most affectionate person in the world. Of course he cared. They were his family after all, and especially with his older brother Bill was also something like one of his closest friends...not that he had much friends.  
But somehow it still bugged him.  
He also wasn't really sure if it was a good thing to pull their brother out of this quite comfortable looking Muggle life.  
Ron wasn't in danger and according Percy and Bill he also wasn't unhappy here.  
Rue was a nice little village and Charlie felt bad when he thought about his family planning to pull him back into the magical world and restore his memory with all that death and war trauma and insecurity.  
It just didn't feel right.  
It wasn't like Ron missed being a wizard.

It was still far too early to go inside, inside the little holiday home everyone still seemed asleep and there were still stars fading at the clear morning sky. It had stopped raining.  
Charlie charmed the old bench in front of the little house dry and sat down watching the sky go from pale blue to a friendly peach colour and sun rise over the roofs of the stones houses of the village.  
He was about to fall asleep when the shadow of a human fell on him and he looked in the slightly sleepy face of "Henry Dupont". "B'n matin, M'sieur." Ron muttered dozy looking down on him.  
"G' Morning." answered Charlie squinting in the sun behind his younger brother.  
"I've seen you from the window..." He pointed to the windows of the pub behind him with his thumb"...and thought perhaps I could tempt with coffee."  
there was no smile on Ron face, but he seemed not like he planned to hit him, like he did hit Bill.  
Charlie nodded and Ron went a few steps back so he could stand up before following him to the little café des sports.

"Fréderic" sat on one of the barstools a bowl of brightly coloured cereals and a cocoa in front of him. His grin was so broad that it showed a big tooth gap in the back part of his mouth.  
"B'n matin, M'sieur!" the boy cheered, mustering Charlie with a lot interest, while Ron went to the back part of the pub to fix him some breakfast.  
Next to the boy there was a young, girl with blond locks, perhaps 3 years older than him. Her greeting was quiet and she kept her eyes on her baguette with chocolate cream.  
"Fred" followed Charlie's gaze and sighed whispering something in French, that Charlie didn't catch, obviously trying to cheer the girl up.  
It didn't work though, she still seemed like she was about to cry mumbling something something about "Maman et Papa" that Charlie didn't catch.  
The boy didn't seem to be discouraged though and started to drum a slow rhythm on the counter, so that the spoon in the cereal bowl started clinking.  
 _"A la volonté du peuple et à la santé du progrès"_ sounded the bright soprano voice of the boy through pub. The song sounded like a marching song and Charlie felt a bit uncomfortable about it, regarding that the boy was still so young. Marching songs reminded him of the war.  
It cheered up the girl though and he heard that the clinking in the kitchen had stopped, perhaps to listen the child sing.  
After what seemed like the first phrase and chorus the boy started humming and the girl lifted her voice, since in a language that seemed to be Germanic.  
 _"Wenn die Barrikade ruft, dann bebt der Feind for unser'm Schrei! Wir bauen eine Welt ganz ohne Hass und Tyrannei!"_ Ron came out of the kitchen a try with café au lait and croissants in his hands.  
 _"Drum schließt euch uns an! Jede Frau, jeder Mann und seit FREI!"_ he sang boldy looking at the beaming face of the girl. Even Charlie, who barely spoke three words of German, could hear his strong English accent...somehow that was that was comforting he thought breaking a piece from his croissant and listening to a two-language chorus in French and German.  
After that it got quiet, since the children started eating again. Just Ron's deep voice carried through the room calmly.  
"Will you give all you can give, so that our banner may advance?" he ruffled the girls blond head.  
"some will fall and some will live, will you stand up and take your chance?" he patted the head of little Fred looking weirdly sad for someone that shouldn't know how it was to be in a war and have people dying around you.  
"the blood of our martyrs will water the meadows of France!" Ron ended silently starting to whistle the chorus again while cleaning and organising things behind the counter.  
Charlie kept watching him and the children while he drank his coffee.  
It wasn't that Ron was happy, he thought.  
Ron was coping. He was keeping himself busy.  
But he wasn't himself...and this Henry. Ron knew that this Henry was not him.  
Ron missed that part of him that he lost when he forgot that he was Ron and perhaps he even remembered a bit. Not specific things, but feelings...like this marching song that seemed to affect him even though he didn't know why.  
Why it hurt when you sing about people dying. People that fought at your side.  
"Did you teach them that song?" he asked after a while.  
Ron turned around. He smiled a bit embarrassed and scratched the back of his head.  
"Yeah...sorry for the chaos, so early in the morning. It wasn't the easiest morning." Ron made him self a coffee and pulled a barstool behind the bar to sit across from Charlie.  
"Finissez votre p'tit déjeuner, enfants!" he said to the children in forced cheerfulness, and shortly after that they were really finished, leaving the house in warm windcheaters, wellies and each carrying an empty bucket with them.  
"I asked them to go to the beach and collect some mussels for dinner." explained Ron when he noticed Charlie's slightly confused expression.  
"thanks for coming with me by the way...things are pretty confusing at the moment. What was you name?"  
"Charlie Weasley, I'm the..." he stopped himself. He was so used to stating his own position in the family, when talking about family that he almost had slipped.  
"it's okay..." muttered Ron relaxed looking in his bowl of coffee with milk. "I may have a hole of the size of the Isle of Man in my memory, but I'm not completely daft, thank you." he laughed silently.  
"It already dawned to me that someone from my past arrived in the village when your brother...come on.! It's not like you can deny that you're related... you guys look extremely similar!"he scoffed slightly annoying, biting in his croissant a bit too forcefully.  
Charlie grinned apologetic but kept quiet.  
"He hugged me in front all of these people and I kinda panicked and hit him and bunked off. I feel a bit sorry for that... he seemed really happy to see me."  
Charlie laughed.  
"Bill can be a bit emotional when it comes to stuff like that. He felt a bit bad afterwards too... he could have done that different."  
Ron nodded silently and they started chewing again. Charlie felt like perhaps it wasn't as hopeless at it seemed earlier.  
"Do you have another brother? He looked similar to you. Shorter and stockier than me. He had a bandage above his ear and was waving around with a tiny stick! He muttered something about "Fred" and the next moment I stood in front of the cathedrale d'Amiens with a crying baby."

* * *

the text of the song is from the musical "les miserables". I used it in the languages German (Lied des Volkes) , french (à la volonté du peuple) and English ("Do you hear the people sing"), you can find all three version on youtube, but not a mixed language version like this.  
I chose this because the meaning differs slightly in the different version and some are more powerful in one version than in the other.

A la volonté du peuple et à la santé du progrès- for the will of the people and the good of progress

Wenn die Barrikade ruft, dann bebt der Feind for unser'm Schrei! Wir bauen eine Welt ganz ohne Hass und Tyrannei!- when the barricade is calling the enemy trembles by our roar! We'll build a world completely without hate and tyranny.

Drum schließt euch uns an! Jede Frau, jeder Mann und seit FREI!- so join us" Every woman, every man and be FREE!


	7. Rose

It was just a two days after Christmas and it had been a week since Uncle Harry left the Krum household in the early morning hours hugging Rose's Mum good bye, mumbling something about not knowing how long it would take to clan up the mess.  
Rose knew Uncle Harry had a dangerous job. Sometimes he came to their house, after weeks or months not showing up, with old and newer wounds and smelling of danger, stress and fear. Daddy always looked alarmed when he appeared on their doorsteps and since Daddy seemed to be uncomfortable, so did Hugo and her.  
It was not so much that Rose didn't _like_ Uncle Harry, she just thought he was a bit scary, so she kept a bit of distance between herself and the Auror.  
Mum knew how to deal with Uncle Harry. He was her best friend after all. It was always the same choreography they danced, when he came to visit.  
First they'd hug and tell each other how much they missed each other, then Mum sent Uncle Harry to take a shower. She 'd clean his cloths the Muggle way, instead of letting Daddy use a cleaning spell, Rose sometimes thought it was to force Uncle to stay until his cloths had dried.  
Mum'd heal his wounds and give him extra big portions during mealtime.  
Uncle Harry was friendly, but he always seemed like a fish outside his pond...uneasy, barely surviving, struggling to keep the conversation at the table alive.  
When he was around, the whole family seemed to hold their breath, waiting for something, that never happened.  
The next day he'd be gone and the life in the Krum household continued like before he was there.

On this particular morning Rose had breakfast with Daddy and Hugo and went her room afterwards to finish her book.  
It was a handwritten book about chess strategies, that she found in a little brown chest in the attic, together with Quidditch gear and a few cloths. Rose was sure, that these things had belonged to her biological father. Her Mum had never played Quidditch and Daddy was not a very tall man. He wouldn't fit in these cloths. they were too big for him.  
Rose didn't really care for the Quidditch stuff, but the book was interesting.  
The book was her secret.  
Mum would get upset and she didn't want Daddy to think that she didn't love him...Daddy was one of her favourite humans in the world after all.  
She was just... _curious._  
The handwriting was terrible. Scrawly letters carelessly thrown on the pages, side notes, comments, little doodles and ink blotches scattered messily over the paper and made it extremely difficult to read. She needed a long time to be able to decipher it, but when she finally did she was a bit mesmerised about the fact that her father actually seemed to be an intelligent person...perhaps not as bright as her Mum, since Mum was the cleverest person she knew... but he did have an eye for detail and seemed to be good in keeping the greater picture in mind as well.  
Rose had already known the basic rules of chess, but this boo, was what won her over for the game.  
At the back of the book there were pages just with descriptions of games. some her father had played with her grandfather, some with her Uncle Bill even one he had with Uncle Harry. Rose started to recreate the games, trying to understand how they played.  
Her father, so she decided, was the smartest chess player of all her family.

She was just about to start recreating a new game, when she heard Daddy calling her from downstairs.  
Rose hastily hid the book under the mattress of her bed then she ran downstairs, taking several steps at once.  
"You've got a letter." Daddy said waving a white envelope with a Muggle postage stamp in his hand. It was still closed.  
"Looks a bit like your uncle George's handwriting...no sender though and send through Muggle mail. Weird." Dads broad bushy eye brows met sceptical above his nose, then gave her the letter and sat down at the kitchen table.  
Rose took a seat beside him, inquisitively turning the letter in her hands.

She knew that handwriting.  
 _To: Rose Weasley_ was written in spidery, pointy letters in the envelope and her address.  
"This..." she muttered more to herself "That's my father's writing." not noticing how this effected Dad.  
The Fingers shivered in anticipation when she opened it.  
The letter was short and obviously the person had fought hard to find the right words. Full sentences where crossed out aggressively and it didn't seem the first letter too, since there were pressure marks of other text in the paper. It was written with a ball-pen, not a feather and ink, how it was custom in the wizard world.

 _"Dear, Rose.  
This is really probably the most difficult letter I've ever written.  
It had been almost ten years that I lost my memory and it is still kind of unreal for me, when they told me I've got a daughter that is already old enough to read my letter.  
A daughter I never met.  
They say you're a bright girl, that you've got red hair, like so many in this family seem to have.  
I know you're probably the most brilliant girl.  
I feel bad when I think of having a little girl that I didn't see grow up. I'm sorry I wasn't around when you needed me._

 _I'm sure, even though I don't know much about my old self, that I never planned to leave you and your Mum like this. This other me, would have tried hard to be a good father for you...I'm sure that I didn't leave, because I didn't want to be together with you two._  
 _Perhaps one day, we'll able to meet in person...perhaps I'm not the right person to be your dad...that not something for me to decide...but we could try to become friends, if that is okay for you._  
 _Please know that I'll be always happy to hear from you._  
 _You can contact me, if you want, through your Grandmother. I doubt she'll ever leave me alone, as long as don't I cave in to go to England...this whole family is just really weird, if you ask me._

 _Your_  
 _father Henr_ y "

"My father's name was Ron not Henry...and isn't he...dead?" Rose whispered looking up from the paper.  
Daddy touch her face with his big hands, callused from handling a broom for decades. "my little girl..." he muttered lovingly brushing a way the tears that she didn't even noticed falling.  
A moment later she on his lap, smelling the scent of "home" in Daddy's sweater and trying to stop crying while he hastily writes a few lines for Mum.  
"Mum will come home..." Daddy grumbles than falling back in his own melodious mother tongue to comfort her.


	8. George

George automatically checked the clock at the wall when he entered the Burrow.  
The hand with Ron's name still pointed on "lost". They've found him, but like the many locating charms them and the Ministry used in the attempt to find him over the year, they didn't work in Ron.  
His brothers had told him that the wizard they found living with Ron had experienced similar.  
When the guy tried to obliviate him the spell just didn't work.  
It was like he was a child pretending to be a wizard...magic just didn't wok on Ron.  
They tried to transport him to English ground, Mum wanted to have him checked in St. Mungus, but as as soon as they touched him, they could apparate and the broom became just an regular cleaning broom, when Ron put the hands on it.  
It was like there was a bubble around him that blocked all magic, inside and outside, so they'd find another way.  
In the end Ron had taken it into his own hands and just bought a ferry ticket.

George didn't go to visit is long-lost brother in France. He felt bad just thinking about how he robbed him of his memories and a decade of time he could have spend with them and tried to build up his own life after the war.  
They'd been on the right track.  
They'd been good... or well...they'd been better than just after Fred death.  
But then George had found a folder full of papers. It was Fred's writing. Easy to know, because Fred's letters tilted in another direction than Georges. They were not the same, like everyone thought. Rhey just wanted others to think that, because it had so many advantages when people didn't know who was who.  
When Fred was writing, his letters were pointy, a bit aggressive, like he hated the quill for not following his commands like he wanted to. Seeing his twin writing notes with his right hand while using his wand with his left, dominant hand, made George sometimes feel mediocre next him.  
Fred would do it when they were alone, take the wand in the left hand, where it felt natural...when they weren't alone, he had it in his right, like George...because George couldn't do it with his left and they needed to be the same. It was what they were.  
The differences between them, George's weakness, Fred's strength, they were a secret between them.

George was still in process of trying to not fall apart when he found the folder.  
It had been a shock when he understood what is brother had done there.  
They'd always shared their secrets.  
It scared George, that Fred had been able to research in depth like this without him noticing it. Some parts of spell he knew, some he was sure his brother had invented on his own.  
It was a complicated protection spell...it needed a lot of magic... like a last resort. Spelled on another person it would you leave you almost completely drained of magic for days, not able to protect yourself.  
George had to read a few more page until he understood when his brother has started this research.  
A few days after he lost his ear.  
Fred must have been scared.  
Really scared.  
They were always the closest, they always wanted to be the same...seeing George getting injured, seen how different they were and how easy their could have been hurt...both of the probably just then understood that this war was not a joke.  
George knew his brother... He'd never been the one to sit around quietly...it was like Fred to go and try to find the ultimate spell to protect the one person closest to him.

George didn't know what the spell really meant until he had used him on Ron.  
It had been his marriage with Angelina and when he saw the dark cloaks and the masks it sent him into panic. His family was there and the thought of loosing Angelina or any of his brothers.  
Without thinking he did the only thing he could think of. Ron had been standing the closest to him...staying back since he had Harry's and Ginny's baby in his Arm, while the rest of the Weasley family and Harry had been running towards the Death Eaters, to fight them away from the rest of the guests.  
He thought of Fred and how hard he had been trying to find a way to protect George and the raw wish to protect what was dear to him, left George bare of every logical reasoning.  
And then he did it, Ron vanished in front of his eyes, confusing in his roaring in his face and the baby pressed to his chest.  
Then he'd left George's life for the next decade. And George have gone completely numb, waking two days later, still feeling exhausted.

Percy had hit him hard, making his nose bleed, when he told them a few days ago, what had happened that evening almost ten years ago.  
It was probably the first and the last time that Percy had not only gotten himself in a physical fight with him, he even started it.  
It was easy to defend himself against Percy though. Percy was not exactly an experienced fist fighter, George may be smaller than Percy but he was stronger, more muscular than his older brother and he had wrestled enough with his twin to easily be able to defend himself against a left-hander's attacks.  
It was like second nature to mirror his movement and while it hurt like an thorn deeply hidden and ulcerating under the skin, but it felt good and somehow like home.  
George was faster above him, heavily breathing keeping his older brother pinned down and he just had raise his fist to hit Percy, hard and merciless, when Charlie had pulled him away shaking him and cussing under his breath.  
Bill and Charlie leaving finger-sized bruised on their shoulders had kept them apart until they had calmed down enough to gather their breath and continue their discussion.  
"Fred, would have never used a spell that could hurt me permanently, I trusted Fred! I trusted him blindly! I just wanted him to be save." George had finally whispered urgently.  
"I didn't know what the spell truly did, until I used it. I thought, it would just teleport you away and make you untraceable for a while.  
I didn't know that is also blocks your own magical abilities and memories...I'm not sure, if Fred knew that either...I've got the feeling that this wasn't intended...He'd planned to use it on me after all and he'd been helpless without me around! We depended so much on each other." he choked at the last words.  
Percy rummaged in his pocket, giving him a handkerchief to stop the bleeding of his nose.  
"I can't believe you used a completely untested spell on your little brother." he muttered rubbing his eyes with his left hand wearily. There was a big blue bruise forming right above his cheekbone.

George sighed heavily thinking back.  
"Mum! I'm here!" he called in the house, that was weirdly quiet. He crossed the living room and starting to climb the stairs.  
From the attic he heard children playing and laughing.


	9. James

Being in England was weird.  
It had been three days since he came to this country and he still was bit confused by all the new people.  
Being without Henry was weird too. Fred doesn't miss him much during the day, but at night he sometimes felt like crying, when the one saying good night is a red-haired woman, that said she's his mother. He can't sleep. It is too early.  
The woman doesn't cook, like Henry. She just swings her wand and the food is finished. It was cool at first, bit the boy missed sitting on the kitchen counter, while Henry was cooking.  
How henry was precisely cutting, boiling, arranging food while they talked about school and life or sung a song that they both liked often having a little extra for Fred to try.  
The woman didn't let him sit in the counter, while fixing him hot chocolate. She kisses his cheek, but she doesn't smell like home, like Henry did when he pressed his stubbly face on Fred's forehead for a "good night"-kiss.  
there's no babbling of voices and no glasses clinking from the pub down stairs. There's no faint bergamotte smell in the bed sheets from the laundry detergent that Henry always uses and the howling of wind and the far-away sounds of the sea are gone.  
They don't call him "Fred", like Henry did, rolling the "r" gently through the throat, they call him "James" the woman calls him "Jamie". Fred curled himself into a ball and blinked stubbornly to stop the tears from falling.  
Quiet sleeping sounds come from the bed at the other side of the room it didn't sound at all like the sonorous snoring of Henry.  
Albus is nicer than he thought when he first met him, but still still felt weird calling him his brother.  
He's younger and a bit annoying, because he quiet and smiles and is just too nice. Fred thought he's a bit fake. He always had the urge to tease him, to see what Albus is really like.  
Lily is sleeping in the room beside him.  
He doesn't know what to do with her. She's several years younger and was hugging him all the time or trying to convince him to play with her "Teaparty". Fred didn't know how this game worked, so he said no. she cried.

Henry said he will get used to it and that now that they know that he has a Mum and a Dad, he should stay with them.  
But Fred wasn't even sure if he wanted to get used to this.  
Yes, he always wanted to have a Mum and siblings, but he didn't expect losing Henry in the process.  
Fred thought it would be easier of one of these new uncles would be around.  
Uncle Bill for example was cool and had an air of trustfulness around him. He was almost as tall as Henry and he was easy to talk to. When he petted Fred's head it felt a bit like Henry too.  
Uncle Percy was a bit more difficult for him to get along with. Fred was a bit scared of him, because he always seemed to see right through him, when he was about to prank someone. Uncle Percy and his wife Audrey had two daughters and their apartment was weird.  
Fred had spent this day there with Lily and Albus, because his new Mum had work to do.  
Uncle Percy's and Aunt Audrey's house was _really_ weird.  
You had to turn the round doorknobs in the opposite direction as in every other house. The same with jam glasses and bottles. Everything was working in the wrong direction.  
Fred almost cut himself when he tried to cut off a slice of bread, because the knife was weird and it was difficult to cut straight downwards with it and he needed a while in the bathroom to find the bog roll because it was screwed to left side wall instead of the right, like in every other house he has been.  
Still it had been fun.  
Molly and Lucy were cool and they had spent the day annoying Aunt Audrey to the maximum and causing a havoc in her home. Albus kept himself separate, staying in Uncles Percy's office and reading picture books and drawing pictures of his dad.

Fred's new Mum and Dad were divorced.  
He new his Father was called Harry and his surname was "Potter", like Albus', Lily's and his new Mum's, but he didn't meet him yet.  
Albus had said he wasn't much around and that he worked a lot. His new little brother seemed pretty sad about that and Fred felt a bit like they weren't so different.  
Because Fred missed Henry too, like Albus missed his dad.  
Fred didn't know if he wanted a new dad, he had Henry after all.

"Good morning, Jamie!" cheered his new Mum way to early and Fred turned away and hid under his blanket.  
 _"Va-t'en!"_ he grumbled trying to get out of the reach of her hands, that try to pull away the blanket.  
 _"Va-t'en! Va-t'en!_ _ **Va-t'en!**_ _"_ he screamed, trying to kick her away while clutching the blanket.  
He didn't want to see her and to hear the voice of Albus asking what's wrong.  
He just wanted to be left alone and then Henry should come and tickle him until he was giggling and awake.  
He'd through him over her shoulder and carry him like a flour sack into the kitchen grumbling about how Fred has gotten heavier again and both of them laughing and yelling and he'd get his _real_ breakfast and not this weird slimy porridge.  
He didn't want this woman to wake him up!  
He wanted to be at home!  
"JAMES SIRIUS POTTER! Stop this! NOW!" the woman's voice thundered through the room.  
Fred froze for a moment then he was on his feet, running out of the room and and hiding in the pantry behind the kitchen.  
"leave me alone! Stupid! Go away!" he cried.  
Fred hadn't cried in a long time.  
Last time when they were watching _Le Roi Lion_ with Pauline.  
 _"Je veux rentrer à la maison!"_

* * *

"Va-t'en!"- go away!  
Le roi Lion- the Lion King  
"Je veux rentrer à la maison!"- I want to go home.

I really enjoyed writing about Percy's appartment.  
In this story, he's got a very dominant left-handedness, which makes it difficult for him to use right-hand tools or do a lot of things with his right hand. Audrey is a lefty too, so their appartment is customised for left-handers when it comes to things like cooking tools, knifes, bottles or doors for example.  
it is a relatively simple spell, that changes everything object and tool that gets brought into the household into to a lefty-tool.  
I think the fact that Percy always tries to fit in, but it never works out, fits for a lefty.

Fred was also left-handed, but he tried from a very young age to do almost everything like a right handed person, because he wanted to be the same as George... so he was de facto ambidextrous.  
he still was more skilled with the left hand, that's why he used the left hand when he was doing complicated magic, but only when he was along with George. when he was among people he'd use his right hand, this included also school exams. He was not as good in potions as George for example because the knifes were more difficult for him to use.

when percy works, he has ti pick up put down pen and wand depending on what he wants to do, and so does George. Fred in the contrary kept both ready in his hands so when it came to research he was more efficient then his brothers.

the rest of the Weasley siblings are right-handed btw eventhough Ginny can do a lot of with her left hand too.


	10. Arthur

It was a bright morning in late December, shortly before New Year and the sun shone bightly and icy on he low hanging early morning mists around Ottery St. Cathpole, Devon.  
Arthur Weasley liked doing things the Muggle way, so instead of using a cleaning charm he brushed his teeth avidly looking out of the bathroom window in the first floor if his family house, the Burrow.  
Through the open window the chilly air of the morning watching the gnomes flit through the garden.  
Arthur felt more happy than he had in a long time.  
That's what finding his youngest son did to you.  
He spat the foam from his mouth and cleaned face and toothbrush with water. Then he leaned out of the open window with a smile enjoying the morning quietness.  
The Burrow has always been a lively place, calm moments were precious.  
Down stairs his wife was making breakfast and she heard her talking...probably with one of his many grandchildren that arrived in the morning, when their parents had to work.  
Molly loved teaching the children...Arthur sometimes thought she'd been a good teacher of she hadn't become a mother of seven. For sure she was intelligent enough and she was an extraordinary witch! Her brightness was what made him fall in love with her back then.  
Sometimes he felt bad for making her stay at home, but then he saw her smile happily at their children and grandchildren and he thought...perhaps there were many ways to be happy.  
Just because one dream didn't work out, didn't mean that you weren't happy with your life.

Arthur's thoughts moved back to his youngest son.  
Ron.  
The first time he'd seen him close since a decade was on the afternoon of 24th December. He wanted to get some fresh air and went out of the full house of family in Rue to beach outside the village.  
It had been pretty cold and it was raining again.  
The sea was not to be seen, the tide was low and Arthur didn't see humans except if a few people far away.  
He walked through the sand and the the salty wind and the rain felt nice on his skin.  
After a while he sat down on one of the big boulders at the foot of the dyke and looked at the sea.  
Contrary to what Percy told them Ron actually seemed to be very aware of them and tried to talk with them separately, trying to find out more about them, about himself. This strategical manoeuvring was exactly what Arthur expected from his youngest son.  
Ron had always been a bit of a hothead, but when he wanted to reach a goal he was extremely methodical and planned carefully. A behaviour that Arthur knew well from his wife.  
Ron was a lot like his wife when it comes to his personality...it was better not to tell him though...most boys don't like to be told that they resemble their mother.  
A quiet creaking behind him let him turn around.

Ron was obviously used to the area. He easily find the the right places to set his feet and was surprisingly elegant when he jumped down to the bottom of the dyke.  
"Can I sit beside you, M'sieur." he said with a smile that was half hidden by the broad collar of his windcheater.  
Arthur nodded and sat down again observing how the younger man leaned against the boulder beside him and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
"not the best weather for a stroll. I think père Noël will have a difficult time tonight when delivers presents. There'll be a storm." Ron muttered.  
"Well we'll leave him an extra cookie as a thank you..." smiled Arthur and then faced the grey sky. He heard Ron laugh then they got quiet for a while.

"I've tried to find out more about where I came from. But it was difficult. It seems like a just came out of nowhere." Arthur could here the frustration in his son's voice.  
"Even though I have plenty of scars I found no medical records. I took a ferry and asked the police in Dover but couldn't help me either since there were no records of me or any family members...so I followed the only trace that seemed to be viable." there was a small grin on his face.  
"My English accent."  
The strollers down the beach came closer. Arthur could see that they were both carrying something big and heavy...perhaps a bucket or something.  
Ron continued while Arthur watched the two people coming closer.  
"I went to the university on Oxford and asked a linguist...uhm~ that someone who's a specialist for language-stuff...if they could give me a place where people speak the same English dialect as me. They did a lot of tests...probably more than they needed, but it's not like I could have said no...and then they said they believed that I speak a Devon dialect."  
"When was that?" asked Arthur not taking the eyes the two people that came closer from the beach. They were both pretty small.  
"Around half a year after Fred and I arrived here. I left him with Jan, who's a good friend of mine, when I went to Britain. I didn't want to have problems with the officials...the social worker still had an eye on us and I didn't want to give them any reasons to take the child from me." answered Ron and and the told " So I went to Devon and started to search in the archives of all kind of villages and cities, I was about to give up, when I finally found something in a newspaper."  
Arthur got distracted my the sound of Ron rummaging in pockets of his windcheater until he found his wallet and pulled out the dirty copy of a newspaper article from the year 1971.  
the photo showed a crowd of people standing around a big whole in the ground, that looked like it came from an explosion.  
The people didn't move. It was a Muggle picture, black and white and slightly blurry.  
In the background, the were standing two men with very pale skin and big noses that looked like they had red hair, one clearly excited, which was Arthur's brother Bilius, and one holding a child that around a year old. Him and Bill.  
He remembered that day.  
Bilius had done something incredible stupid Arthur had his co-workers in the Ministry of Magic had been laughing at him for months after that event until they finally got bored of it.  
"That's me." Arthur muttered.  
Ron nodded.  
"It was pretty obvious that there must be some kind of genetical connection...I mean... that guy looks basically like me!" He tipped again the photo."I was excited. I was sure that now I finally would find out more about my past. But the photo was old and no matter who I asked, no one could tell me more about it, so I gave up...thought that perhaps my family just didn't want to be found..."  
Arthur nodded.  
"We've been searching for you a lot, son. We missed you. Your wife missed you."  
Ron looked at him bewildered.  
"A _wife_?! I had...have a _wife_?"  
"is that so shocking." laughed Arthur but stopped when the two people were finallyclose enough, so that he could see who it was.  
Two children, a girl that just started to reach puberty and a little boy, that was perhaps nine or ten years old ran towards them, each a big heavy bucket in their hands.  
"Henry!" cheered the boy.  
"We've got loads of _moules_!"

As scream from down stairs startled Arthur. He looked around for a moment, confused were he were, then remembered that he was in his bathroom in the Burrow.  
Molly was calling him from the kitchen, probably she wanted him to come down for breakfast.  
Arthur closed the window and climbed down the stairs.

When he entered the kitchen he found an agitated daughter heavily gesticulating while she told her mother something. His grandson Albus was reading a picture book, while eating his porridge, while Arthur's granddaughter Lily was already finished and played a doll that she must have brought with her.  
Next to these two little sunshines the third Potter child, James, looked like a ghost.  
He was a bit grey in the face, and there was no sign of the usual mischievous grin of the kid.  
His eyes were puffy, like he had cried and over all he just looked plain miserable, stabbing his porridge like it was to blame for bad things in the world.  
"Are you angry, little boy." said Arthur sitting down and filling his cup with tea.  
"England is stupid. Mum is stupid. And this food tasted horrible. I wanna go home." muttered James rubbing his eyes as if tears threatened to fall again, but he stubborn blinked them away.  
""is that so..." said Arthur gentle and ruffled the boy's hair.  
"I think you could be little homesick. Do you miss Ro... I mean Henry?" the boy looked up obviously considering if he should trust him with this information, then he nodded.  
"You know he'll come? He's not gone...he just needs longer, because magic doesn't work for him. You won't you lose him, when you're nice to your Mum and siblings. He loves you a lot after all." Arthur looked at the child for a moment seeing how the child relaxed. It seemed to him like James wasn't really used to have a woman care for him. Having a mum was new and stressful for the child.  
Probably he needed more time to come to terms with that.  
"I think you should go take a nap. It is still pretty early and you don't look like you had much sleep tonight, Jamie." Arthur got on his feet and before the boy knew what happened, he'd thrown him over his shoulder and slapped gently on the back of the boy.  
"special delivery~!" he hollered, ran out of the kitchen, upstairs and carried the boy to Ron's old bedroom. The boy seemed to be surprised at first, but he giggled happily.  
As soon as Jamie's head hit the pillow of Ron's old bed, the boy was asleep. hem ust have been really tired.  
Arthur stayed for a moment looking down on the child.  
It must be very difficult for the boy, he thought. Even though not biologically, for all the child had been grown up with, Ron was still Jamie's parent and his only family...suddenly being away from your family was probably very scary for a child.  
"sleep well, little Jamie."  
he mumbled and closed the door a minute later.

* * *

moules = mussles


	11. Henry

It was around noon, when Henry's Ferry reached Dover.  
He had left his apartment and his friends in rue behind this morning and even though officially he was just going to England temporally to find help with his memory loss, he felt like he wouldn't come back again.  
It was a cold and bright winter day and Henry stayed a moment at the docks watching ships and listening to the waves and the cries of the seagulls before starting his way towards the train station.  
There were still three hours left until his train left and so he got himself a coffee in a paper cup and at down in the sun in front of the building.  
Around six hours would it take until he reached the county Devon and from the train station in Exeter there he'd get picked up by one of his brother...that at least was the plan.  
Henry was still not sure if he could trust his "family" with things like punctuality. They didn't seem exactly used to non-magic ways of doing things.

Henry had known that Fred (he still couldn't bring himself to call him James, like the boy's biological mother had called him) was different right from the start.  
The started to do "weird stuff" as long as he he knew him (and remembered).  
First it was small thing, like getting his dummy when it was out of reach or letting Henry's hand-knitted cap float toward him because he was cold.  
But as soon as the kid was able to think about more than eat, sleep and poop, and he started to talk to crawl, the mischief the boy planned wasn't nothing you could ignore.  
Henry had been pretty scared at first, not know what to do with this weird thing the little guy did, but then he met Jan and his daughter and learned that this was perfectly normal in other social circles...the hard way...for Jan.  
Henry didn't know if it had to do with his past, but he reacted slightly nervous on people fiddling around with these tiny sticks, Jan called them wands, in from of his nose.  
He just didn't like it when people directed them at him.  
So the first time Jan wanted to use magic on him and pointed the wand at Henry's face, he'd just plain broken his nose with a right swing, and he wrestled the wand out of Jan's hand.  
The second time, Jan tried to delete memory from him mind, it just didn't work. Henry was happy about that, since his memory was holey enough even without Jan playing around with it, thank you very much.  
Jan had tried other spells too and Henry got also hit by a few strays and wild magic from the kids, Pauline and Fred, none of them worked on him.  
Jan was convinced that Henry either was something like some kind of antimagician or he had been hit by a curse that blocked every contact of him and magic.  
Henry thought that this sounded pretty stupid and decided to ignore the "weird stuff".  
However he'd know it if he saw it.  
He'd known it when he had seen Charlie Weasley transform Fred's spiders back into apples from the kitchen window and he felt the magic prickle in the air from the illusion spell he just ran into.

It probably wasn't the most intelligent decision to try to find the source of this magic, but he was really curious and he was bored. Henry wasn't used to having too much time.  
There seemed to be a natural cautiousness in his movements, when he sneaked around a few streetcorners until he reached, what seemed like battle scene.  
Two wizards one still extremely young one slightly older, wearing dark uniform-like dresses were holding their wands towards another wizard, that was around his age. It was clear that these first two belonged to some kind of law enforcement thingy, while the latter one was obviously up to no good. Mocking the younger wizard and trying to land a hit.  
The air flickered from curses.  
The young one seemed to be really scared by the man, he turned away and screamed like a girl and in his panic ran into his co-worker and brought him out of balance causing him to lose focus for a moment. The criminal (Henry was pretty sure this wasn't just a friendly dispute) lifted his wand to say his spell and...  
Henry lost it.  
The older officer-guy looked like Henry thought Fred could look, when he was adult and wasn't taking good care if himself.  
He had unruly black hair, like Fred, was relatively small, meager and had very green eyes behind thick glasses.  
May be Henry wasn't a wizard, but he was sure, during a fight you should not turn away from your opponent.  
And for sure he wouldn't let this guy die before he didn't know this man wasn't related to his little boxy.  
With a swift movement he threw the brewing hot coffee cup into the man's face making him scream in pain when the liquid hit his face. He picked up beer bottle made of glass, that a clubber must have left behind the night before and threw it against the head of the man with a hollow "thunk".  
The man fell to earth and a moment later the black-hair officer-guy hitting the man with another spell, then he looked in Henry's eyes for the first time.

His eyes were really, extremely green. The way, that you couldn't look away from them.  
Henry felt it was a bit creepy staring at the guy, but the other man seemed to do the same.  
Staring at him.  
"Abott." hissed the man without taking his eyes off him.  
"Take Nott to the Auror-Department. Make sure to not mess this up. We'll talk late about how you can prevent causing your co-worker to die and your mission to fail."  
the young can almost most tripped and shivered, obviously he thought of the older officer as some kind of respect person.  
Abott gripped the shoulder of the unconscious man and henry noticed that there were silvery sparkling ropes around hand and feet of the prisoner.  
With a crackle in the air both were gone and henry stayed behind with this black-haired officer-guy that stared at him so creepily, that he thought perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to get involved in this fight.

"Uhm~" muttered Henry.  
"Sorry for disturbi..." but the other man cut off his apology with a coarse "Bloody Hell! Weasley!" and then he was way too close in front of him and roughly nudged his shoulders, arms, chest with his hands, as if to check if he's hurt somewhere.  
He looked as if he's about to cry and scared that this was just a trick of his mind.  
"Where have you been?" he whispered disbelieving, brushing with his hand over Henry's temples, cheeks the neck.  
"Where!"  
Of all the people that hugged him in the last days, this is probably the most extreme reaction to his person.  
The hug wasn't nice. Arms hooked around Henry's neck, he got pulled downwards since the man was smaller. His upper body got crushed against the man's chest with so much force that he's sure it left bruises.  
Henry doesn't push him backwards, like he did with Bill, his "new" oldest brother, but he doesn't really know what to do with this guy either.  
It is pretty clear that this man had at some point in the past must have had a good relationship with Henry, but what kind relationship did they have? Didn't his biological father tell him, that he'd been married andh is wife had been pregnant with a child when he got lost?

"Sorry to ask." he muttered after a while (it started to get really uncomfortable to get hugged like this), gently shoving the other slightly away.  
"Are you...by any chance...Ginny Potter's husband?" he asked hesitantly blinking sceptical at the other man.  
"Ex- husband." grumbled the man. "Don't tell me, you've forgotten who I am, Ron!"  
Henry looked down and sighed.  
So this was Fred's biological father.  
"I..." he was searching for the right words for a moment. "I kind of...lost my coffee a few minutes ago...would you mind coming with me to the train station to get a new one? I'll treat you."  
the man nodded slowly.  
On his way back Henry started telling hat he knew of the story.  
It felt good talking to him. Telling him about his twenty-something years sized hole in his memory and of him meeting the Weasley family and of his confusion to suddenly having tons of people doing magic around him.  
It had been a long time that it felt so easy to talk with another person.

A few hours later he got in the train and the man, his name is Harry Potter, how he told Henry, waved him "good bye" before disappearing with a crackle.  
He's nicer than he first seemed, even though he seemed pretty weird even for a wizard, in Henry's opinion.  
Crude humour and he seemed to be a bit paranoid, always looking around...like some kind of war veteran that saw enemies behind every street-corner.  
Henry was still highly confused by the big closeness this guy seemed to have with his old self.  
Even after telling him that he was Henry's best friend, it seemed weird how much he touches him. His arms, his shoulder, sometimes even his face and hair. It was weird because it felt not out of place.  
What it clearly would have, if Jan would do it for example...even though him and Jan were pretty close.  
Perhaps, thought Henry, was it because this Harry was so much like Fred. And Fred was family.

Is was already dark when he reached Exeter and left the train station. Not far from the building there was a little middle-class family car. Nothing obtrusive and in probably the most boring mud-grey colour he's ever seen in his live.  
Percy honked when he saw him and Henry entered this monstrosity of bourgeois boringness. He first tried to enter on the driver's side of the car which made Percy looked very confused..."Oh forgot...English drive on the wrong side..." Henry muttered and went around the car to finally take a seat.  
It was a normal non magical car, which was good because Henry really had enough of weird magic stuff for today.  
He decided to not tell Percy about his eventful hours in Dover. Perhaps he'd do it later when there were more family members present and he knew that he wouldn't be forced to tell the same story half a dozen times.  
Half an hour later they finally reached Ottery St. Catchpole.  
Fred was sitting on the front steps before the entrance door obviously waiting for them, when he saw Henry a big happy grin formed on his face and hie ran towards Henry's spread arms.  
He had missed the kid, he thought, carrying Fred towards the house and complaining that he got heavier again.

* * *

yup fii~inally, we've read the first of the chapters from Ron's point of view.  
thanks everyone for your comments! please keep tell me what you think and there'll be a big caudron of hot strong love ( © celestina warbeck) in one of the next chapters...and an annoyed Fleur. *haha*


	12. Audrey

Audrey Weasley had never been a overly expressive woman and usually she was totally fine with being called boring. She embraced her boringness. She'd always been the boring person in the family. Calm, diligent and obedient, she stuck out in her family like a sore thumb. Her older sister was a beauty and her talent in Transformation was only rivalled by her inability to concentrate on one partner and her younger brother was a handsome womaniser with so much talent that it made Audrey sad to watch him doing a low job in Gringotts.  
Seriously... most of the time Audrey thought she, in her comfortable boringness, was actually more happy with her reliable husband with his dry and hidden humour and her beautiful daughters.  
Yet, there were times when she felt mediocre when around other people.  
Like today, sitting next Quidditch legend Ginny Weasley, that still looked sexy with her wild red hair and her sparkling brown eyes, watching her oldest brother-in-laws wife with her magical beauty and brilliant intellect or the powerful, athletic coolness wife of Percy's younger brother, with her velvety brown skin and intricate curls.  
Next to them Audrey felt kind of weak.  
She wasn't overly intelligent or charming and she looked average, with her mousy hair, her boring brown eyes, her bland body...sometimes she asked herself why such a gorgeous, intelligent, funny man like Percy could find her even attractive.  
Deep in thought she twirled her wand in her left hand, while watching the women around the kitchen table in the Burrow.

It had been an eventful evening yesterday evening. Her Mother-in-Law had insistent on everyone coming to celebrate the return of the youngest Weasley brother and have a late Christmas dinner.  
There were presents had been exchanged between everyone and they had loads of food.  
Ron had changed a lot since Audrey has met him the last time.  
Back then he'd been a nervous young man, scarred by his experiences of the war and his job as an auror.  
Every time there was a loud sound, someone talked to loud or he was surprised by something he'd look around, check faces and fiddle with his wand muttering protection charms. The Ron back then had been a wreck, in Audrey's opinion.  
Well...compared to his best friend, his wife and many others in his family, he had seemed probably pretty normal. The whole family had been heavily affected by the war.  
Audrey mustered Ron humming carefree while cooking.  
He had a friendly discussion with his mother this morning, because she didn't like the thought of leaving her kitchen to others, but he obviously felt restless and in need to do something and not just sit around.  
He won and so he was allowed to make lunch for the family.  
First being a bit helpless about the lack of Muggle kitchen equipment he adapted fast, since most of things could still be done without it, even when it took longer.  
Molly Weasley senior (not to confuse with Audrey's daughter Molly) had insisted on staying there in the kitchen with him and she'd chose the music...something that made her French daughter-in-law get pale in horror, since it meant listening to Celestina Warbeck.  
After two hours finally the older woman gave in and they turned the magical gramophone off. For a while it had been quiet and they talked more...mainly Ginny was talking.  
Audrey could understand her frustration.  
She thought with having her son back in her family everything would go smoothly and her family would finally become more normal. He had a great mother that loved him a lot, Albus and Lily were the cutest little siblings a boy could wish for...Ginny didn't understand why James had such a hard time to fit into the family.  
Ron stayed quiet during the whole conversation, cutting vegetables in a speed that very few magicians could have done it faster in the same accuracy with a spell, but Audrey was sure he was listening. She could sometimes see him flinch slightly, when Ginny's voice was to loud or came out too harsh.  
That's when she thought there was still a bit of the old Ron inside this person named Henry, that had lived and made his own experiences in the last decade.  
This slightly nervous, attentive and observing guy that she learned to know the few times she met Percy's family back then was still somewhere hidden somewhere.  
Audrey wasn't sure if it was good to make Ron remember the war and his job and all the people he loved that weren't around anymore.

" _Tonnere_!" grumbled Fleur and hit with her fist on the table so that the tea cups rattled, making everyone stop their conversation and look at her in confusion.  
"Could you PLEASE stop humming that stupid song!" she hissed at Ron, who turned around and his grin became bigger and bigger.  
Audrey knew that face.  
It was a rare sight with her husband, since most of the time he was pretty serious about almost everything in life...until today she actually didn't if she liked it or not.  
"I've got a cauldron full of hot, strong love and it's bubbling for you!" sung Ron twirling the knife in his hands obviously trying to annoy Fleur.  
"Stop it! It'll get stuck in my head with this bad text and..." she tried to say but was interrupted by Ron loudly cutting carrots in tiny cubes while singing "Say _Incendio_ , but that spell's not hot like my special witch's brew!"  
As if he was summoned, James entered the kitchen, climbing through the kitchen window "What're you singin', Henry?" the boy cheered and a moment later he sat with dangling legs on the counter opening his mouth like a little bird to get a piece of vegetable fed.  
Ron stopped humming and grinned at the child, ruffling his dark, wiry hair and stuffing a piece of carots in the childs mouth.  
"I'll teach you a song that makes your _tante_ go mad! Listen, _mon p'tit poussin_." he started cutting again, sung the song from the beginning and bit by bit taught James to sing the song. After the third time the boy knew the text as well as Ron, so they started to sing in two voices. Basically James singing the main voice and Ron singing the support both making funny faces and fluttering their eye lashes.  
Fleur was close to tears...Molly Weasley senior too, but because other reasons. Seeing Fleur at the end of her nerves and the boys (well Ron was pretty old to be a boy) so carefree made Ginny her mother giggle like a teenager and Audrey couldn't help but smile.  
"Oh! Such thrills await, 'cause together we are ready to proceed! Drink from my cauldron full of hot, strong love! It's all the magic you'll ever need!" they ended and Ron pushed the vegetables from his cutting board into a sizzling frying pan.  
"I hate you." muttered Fleur emptying her cup of tea with a glum expression on her face.  
"No you don't. You just hate the song that'll stay stuck inside your head for days." purred Ron with a cheeky smile and started stirring the contents of the pan with a wooden spoon.  
"When did you get so mean! You were so cute as a boy." Fleur pouted.  
"Who's cute?" came a voice from the front garden and the scarred face of Bill poked through the open kitchen window.  
"Are you flirting with my brother?" he whimpered pretending to be affronted which made Fleur finally laugh. "You know you're the cutest for me, _mon chéri_." she smiled.

After lunch a silent crackle in front of the door told them that the healer from St. Mungos arrived.  
Since they didn't find a way to bring a a person that disabled magic and magical equipment by touch and presence into a highly magically infused hospital they'd asked for help this way.  
A knock on the door later an annoyed looking, blond wizard appeared in the living room.  
"Hello, Weasleys." Draco Malfoy said with a teethy grin that couldn't hide that he'd like to be anywhere else but here.


	13. Dean

Most of the time Dean Thomas had a quiet job.  
The short-term custody cells in the Ministry of Magic often had unconscious detainees in them, sometimes it was spells, sometimes they were just drugged up to their ears.  
But having to take a unconscious heavily bleeding Death Eater in hasn't happened much since the last big attack, at one of the many Weasley Weddings around ten years ago.  
It had been incredibly stupid of the remaining supporters of the late Voldemort to barge into a festivity that was full of former fighters for the white side, members of the order of phoenix and Aurors.  
The Auror that brought him in, was just out if Hogwarts, so green, that you could almost smell the chlorophyll when he entered the room.  
He was shivering and sweating and looks not exactly like a person that should become a Wizard hunting dark magicians.  
Dean took over and told the kid to sit down in his office with a cup of tea, while he let the unconscious man float in one of the detainment cells.  
The silvery gleaming magical ropes told him, that the one who arrested this guy must have been his old school fellow Harry Potter. Only he would use personalised ropes that can only taken off by the one casting the spell.  
Harry didn't trust anyone in the Ministry.  
Mustering the face, he noticed that he also knew the culprits face.  
They've been in the same year in Hogwarts, but never had gotten along. Dean was not "pure" enough for Nott's taste and he'd openly shown disgust over Dean's Muggle-upbringing and the Slytherin had never let a opportunity pass to make fun of his family.  
He had been on the Death Eater list for years but no one had found him... just his victims from time to time...he randomly had killed around 15 Muggles and Muggle-born Wizards all over Europe in the last eight years after gone into hiding for two years after the big Weasley Wedding disaster.  
He had a pole position on Harry's list of people he'd wanted locked up or dead...Dean knew because he'd seen the list. The list, putting a tick mark behind one name after another, has become almost the only thing his old friend was thinking about.  
Dean knew that his wife broke up with him because of Harry being too occupied with his job.  
It was a miracle, he thought, that a person as stupid as Theodore Nott could have escaped him for so long.  
That Harry was the one who caught him, explained also the signs of the use of blunt physical force instead of the signs of hexes. Harry didn't care about the condition of the Dark magicians when he caught them.  
As soon as they'd done something bad enough, that the Auror Department got him involved, it was fair game. Harry didn't hold back... the only one who had kept him in check, had been Ron back then. One reason why Dean transferred to detainment wing department, was that fighting with Harry Potter, while he was a extraordinary wizard and Auror, had been traumatising.  
Harry didn't care for his own or his partner's well-being when he was on the hunt and he was using all the tricks, no matter how dirty, to get his target.  
After checking if the Death Eater had a wand or another weapon Dean called for a healer. Even if this guy was an arsehole, Dean wouldn't bend the laws just to see him die in his cell instead of one in Azkaban.

When he entered is office, the young Auror sat in the same position he had left him twenty minutes ago.  
He stopped shivering, but he still looked under shock. It's what you get, when working with Harry Potter, Dean thought and shook his head.  
"Are you okay? What's your name?" he asked and summoning himself a cup of tea from the cafeteria and sat down on the edge of his desk and secretly tipped against the magic recorder was innocently concealed in an unclosed ink pot.  
The young man looked up. Is eyes were still full of horror.  
"Look." grumbled Dead impatiently taking a sip if his tea. They'd lived through worse, when he was this age, he was the wrong one to comfort the kid.  
"You're working in a job that hunts _dark wizards_. There will always the scary things out there and you will be confronted with them and very likely one day you will _die_ on duty. This is how being an Auror works. Good pay and early death. Either you find a way to deal with it, or you've got to find another job. Now get over it and let's talk about it like _professionals_." he growled and the boy looked at him in fear.  
Seriously, how could this boy get through the entrance exam!  
It needed another minute of coaxing until the young man finally started to talk.

His name was John Abbott. He was eighteen years old, Ravenclaw graduate, had just started to work for the Auror Department. He was still in training, so they had given him easy jobs so he could get used being an Auror.  
This morning Harry Potter had come back from a hunt in Norway and had a fight with the department chief because he refused to take a few hours off, go home and get some sleep.  
Abbott was just walking by, but obviously the chief had seen him as an opportunity to give Harry an easier mission to keep him out of trouble.  
Abbott, so the chief, should see how Harry worked, since Harry one of the best in his job...Dean felt a bit sorry for the kid. Everyone knew Harry hated working together with partners that didn't understand him blindly...the last and only one who could do that, was Ron.  
He especially hated, when he had to babysit trainees.  
It was supposed to be an easy Job. Unregistered memory charms towards Muggles. Probably just some wizard wanting to keep themselves safe from his Muggle neighbours.  
They'd inform him that the right strategy was to call the Department for Desinformation to take care if this, he'd have to pay a little monetary fine and they'd get back.  
So the plan.  
Harry hat put up illusion spells, just in case. They knocked at the door and a moment later they were duelling a Death Eater.  
"I lost it. I saw that he was a Death Eater and just panicked...I don't know what and how it happened, but when I came to my senses, Mr. Potter was standing above the unconscious Theodore Nott and stared at another guy. He'd red hair and Muggle cloths. No wand. I think the guy had thrown something heavy at Nott to get him away from us. Really weird mood was that. Mr. Potter then ordered me to take Nott to the Ministry."  
Abbott shivered "I think he wanted to stay back with guy...perhaps to delete his memory... he seemed like Muggle."  
Red hair, he'd said...  
Dean took a sip of his tea looking in his cup. "Didn't you say that Harry had put up illusion charms? A Muggle couldn't break through them and see you like this...Harry is a great wizard, there's no way that a person without magical abilities can break through his illusion charm like that."  
he emptied his cup and looked on the clock.  
It was time for his round through the detainment wing to check if everyone was properly locked away.  
"You should go to your department, inform the chief and start writing your report. I've got some work to do."

Dean tipped against the ink port to stop recording after Abbott let the office.  
This was weird. Any Wizard that noticed a duel going on wound have pulled out his wand.  
Fighting a Death Eater by throwing stuff at him was suicidal!

Red hair...Huh?


	14. Draco

Draco Malfoy had only spend 20 minutes in the home of the Weasley family and he was already annoyed to no end.  
Even with Ronald, the Weasley he had the most interaction with as a child, having forgotten who he was, he still was a pain to deal with.  
His patient obviously had decided from the first second, that he didn't like or trust him and had showed that non-verbally in a way that made it difficult to examine him, even if he was not openly opposed him.  
The living room was overpopulated with worried Weasleys, that obviously did not trust him either. Every movement he made was closely observed by a bunch of redheads.  
Magical examination spells failed and so he had to stick to other methods. It needed a while until he finally found a loophole.  
Potions.  
While magical infused potions didn't work, potions that relied on natural non-magical ingredients worked just fine.  
Draco started to rummage in his magically enhanced briefcase until he finally found a potion that he had high hopes for.  
He never had such a case, but since Weasley was still able to notice even non-visible spells, he was sure there must be still some magic left in him. Perhaps. So he thought, it just needed enough magic to break the impervious wall between the the magic inside of his patient and the outside.  
In the little bottle, that he put on table between him and Weasley, was a potion that was usually given to children of magical family, when there was the suspicion they may be squibs.  
It acted similar to putting oil in a fire and intensify the magic inside the the patient for a short time.  
Draco's theory was, that if there were little magical attacks against the anti-magic-wall again and again, at some time it would wear down and there would perhaps be crack to that was enough to get him ton one of quarantine chambers in St. Mungos.  
They'd to go there.  
The thought of a whole decade of unused, pent up magic inside Weasley, was terrifying. He could kill his whole family by releasing it all in ones. Plus he probably wouldn't have much control over it after not having used magic for years. One sloppy movement with the wand and the whole house was gone.  
Draco hated to admit it, but the old Ronald Weasley had been a powerful wizard. Cunning and naturally gifted, even with far inferior, defect or unfitting tools he'd been always beaten Draco in exams. While Potter used Magic in pure instinct, Weasley used his magic usually very strategically, calculated, like setting pawn on an imaginary strategy game board.  
A Ronald Weasley that used his magic power without planning and control, was disaster.  
"I never had a case like yours." he explained seriously, ignoring the herd of Weasley around him and his patient. It hadn't been so hard to act professional, since his first week in St. Mungos.  
"We've got to test things out and see fit works. I sure that the same thing that blocks you're ability to have contact with magic is also blocking your memories." Draco rubbed his eyes. He was so tired. Thirtysix-hours-shift and now this...  
"See, your whole family is magic you grew in a magical environment since birth. If this...thing wanted to block your memories it had to take magic away, because your memories are all tied to magic."  
he pointed on the bottle.  
"please take 10 drops of this twice a day. Ten in the morning, ten in the evening. I hope it'll help to make the anti-magic barrier thinner so that we can tear it down eventually.  
For a moment Weasley seemed to consider if he should trust him, then he nodded slowly.  
"Great. Now I can finally go home and sleep." grumbled Draco more to himself than to anyone else and he stood up.  
"I'll come and see how far you'll be next week." He put his stuff back into his briefcase and went to the door.  
"If there's something going wrong or you notice that your magic is coming back, please inform the hospital immediately. Magic going rampage can pretty destructive...good evening,Weasley."  
he disapparated.

A few seconds later he appeared in an Apparition Area close his apartment in London.  
He almost run inside house, fell on the couch and was just about to pass out, when the frigid tenor voice of his father let him tear open his eyes again.  
"You are a slob, son. You are a disgrace to your family."  
Well, thank you father, that's a nice way to great your only son.  
He sat up and straightened his back looking in the stiff face of his father.  
"A nice evening to you to, father." Draco instinctively started matching the chilly tone of his dialogue partner.  
"What brings you here." Lucius Malfoy would never visit anyone without ulterior motif. Draco doubted that his father ever seen any human, including his mother and Draco, as anything else than an annoying, unwelcome presence, as long as contact with them weren't benefiting for himself or for the future of the Malfoy Family.  
Draco would never openly oppose his father, they were family after all and he still felt loyal to his family, but he wanted his relationship with his son to be different.  
He loved his son and he wanted Scorpius to know that.

"The young Nott was caught by the Aurors." said Lucius, crossing his arms in front of his chest and staring in the fireplace.  
"I was surprised, that he could to his stupid killing spree for so long without being caught." muttered Draco. Theo had been sleeping in the same dorm, back in Hogwarts. They been in the same year and Draco didn't hate him when he was in school.  
Theo was not not exactly the most intelligent person, he unusually sincere for a Slytherin. The combination of loyalty and stupidity made him to a good candidate of you needed an underling.  
Draco didn't like underlings anymore though.  
He was much more happy with fixing people, than commanding them.  
"Potter found him in an routine visit. He wasn't even trailing the foolish boy." hissed Lucius and looked at him.  
"I know you were in school together, but right now, we've got to concentrate to keep the name of the Malfoy Family clean. Don't do something stupid." Draco nodded.  
"I wouldn't even think about it. What he did was his decision and I've got to keep my son and wife safe and..." Draco smiled challenging at his father  
"...I actually like my job. I don't want to lose it."  
Lucius wrinkled his forehead in disapprove, he wasn't exactly happy that his son became a healer instead of a politician.  
"That's nice to hear, son." he said icy and then made his way towards the door.  
"You mother wants to see you, how about visiting us for New year."  
Draco copied the cold smile.  
"I'll talk with Astoria about it and then sent an owl."


	15. Seamus

Seamus Finnigan loved his job.  
He always had a thing for pyrotechnics and this job was probably the best things you could chose when you wanted things to go boom.  
He was specialised on faking explosions and other accidents for the Department for Desinformation.  
Since he was Muggle-born he knew how Muggle thought and so he'd create a believable background setting for the stories that were planted in the heads of the Muggles by his co-workers with memory adjustment spells.  
He'd were a Muggle uniform...sometimes a firefighter, sometimes a police officer, which cool. Firefighters had been his heroes when he was child.  
It was only early after noon, but Seamus had already already destroyed two buildings in one care across Britain.  
He smelled of explosives and and smoke and he was way to hungry to care about people staring at his slightly charred self when he started to walk towards the cafeteria of the Ministry.  
He was just about thought debate with himself he should take Menu A (on Mondays it was always Fish and Chips.) or Menu B (Seamus didn't know the name, but it was made by Azhar, the Pakistani cook, and it he knew it'd be brilliant), when he heard someone scream his name happily and a the sudden weight of a human body on his back made him almost tumble.  
"Blimey! Harry!" He growled trying to find his balance again and peeking over his shoulder to see a head full of unruly hair.  
Harry was smaller than him, but the Auror training made him much more of a fighter than Seamus has ever been, there was no chance that he'd be able to shake him of, if Harry didn't want to.  
His old school friend jumped down from his back and stuffed his hand in the pocket of his faded Muggle jeans.  
"You look funny." Harry said and Seamus didn't know if he should feel insulted, because harry himself didn't look like a model with his gravity-defying hair, the five-days beard and the hollow cheeks. He looked tired and like he didn't take proper care of himself for weeks...but there was a cheerfulness on his face that Seamus hasn't seen since Cedric's death in their fourth school year.  
"thanks Potter." He could help but start grinning too.  
"Wanna go grab something to eat?" he proposed and Harry answered with a nod and a shrug of his bony shoulders.

They talked goofed around while waiting to in the queue for menu A (Harry made this decision for him) and Seamus just talked about bursting apart a farmhouse close to York when the they heard Seamus's best friend Dean call them.  
They joined him at the table about five minutes later and Seamus still was positively surprised by Harry's unusual carefree mood when they put down their trays.  
Dean joined the discussion, but it got more serious when he asked harry about work.  
Seamus sighed.  
Couldn't Dean just enjoy that their Golden Boy was not moping around for a moment?  
"I heard you were in Norway last week. The kid, that brought Nott in, told you were on a hunt." Dean mumbled chewing on a big piece of fish.  
Harry nodded, grinned good-natured and started poking around in his food.  
"The Norwegian Ministry of Magic wanted someone to help to find an English wizard that went amok in Kolvereid and took a toddler as a hostage." he took a few bites before he continued.  
"the child survived, the wizard didn't. I _accidentally_ let him explode." Seamus shuddered when he saw the cruel smile on the lips of his old friend, Dean's hand gripped his fork a bit to tight and he heard him gulp.  
Seamus knew that Harry could be extremely ruthless when it came to his job. Dean had told him on a very drunk evening that this was one of the reasons he didn't want to work as an Auror anymore.  
"In my opinion, they could have easily done that alone." Harry grumbled. "  
They've got great people there. The witch I was working with was brilliant and they all speak great English, so there was no language barrier at all...I think it was an attempt to deepen the international relationships...there's a discussion about reinforcing Nuremgard and use it as an international prison."  
Dean hummed thoughtfully.  
"I was there a few years ago with a few other guards. It's pretty impressive...Grindelwald made it so safe that he couldn't even break out himself and some say he was a greater wizard than You-know-who."  
"Well, You-know-who did find a way to break in and get out."  
Harry laughed swallowing a big portion of chips before speaking with an amused voice.  
"I'm not sure if Grindelwald even tried to get out later... he wasn't right in the head, but he wasn't stupid, I think he knew perfectly well that his time was over after Dumbledore defeated him."  
Seamus threw a fast side glance towards Dean who looked unusually serious.  
"Him and Voldemort are pretty different in their personality, what they wanted..."  
Harry obviously had thought a lot about it. Seamus looked down on his food.  
He was wasn't sure if he felt like eating anymore.  
"Voldemort was a simple person. He wanted power. He wanted to be strongest and he wanted have control absolute control over everyone else. All this pureblood rubbish, was just show in my opinion. His supporters believed in it, and so it was strategically intelligent for him to say he supported it as well...but the ideology behind this rubbish didn't matter so much for him...it was power. He wanted power and control. "  
Harry shrugged and continued eating, like had been chatting about the weather.  
"Grindelwald...I don't know him nearly as well as Voldemort. But I think he didn't want power and control "just because", like Voldemort. He was sure he had the power and wisdom and so he saw it has his natural right and duty to have control. For him... what he did was for the greater good. He saw his own deeds as morally justified."  
Harry laughed.  
"Doesn't make him less of a bastard, though." he laughed and twirled his fork in his hand cheerfully.

They changed the topic. Dean talked about football and Seamus and Harry got in a discussion about Quidditch while clearing their plates.  
"I recorded what the Abbott. Kid said, when he brought Nott in." informed Harry after starting with pudding.  
"he said that there was someone there...red hair."  
Seamus stared at Harry in disbelief. Harry face lit up. All the stress and dark thoughts, that had made his face grey disappeared leaving happiness radiate for his big smile.  
Harry looked years younger.  
"He threw hot coffee at Not, when he saw that Abbot panicked and bumped me and made him miss the chance to kill us. Then he threw a beer bottle against his head." Harry chuckled.  
"that so typical for Ron! I never could pull of something calculated like that...even though it was also very stupid. If it would have worked that the bottle knocked him out Nott would have probably attacked him and he can't do magic at the moment, so he wouldn't have been able to defend himself."  
he blabbered happily, forking in his piece of strawberry cake.  
"Ron...like in...Ron Weasley?" Dean asked carefully.  
Harry nodded, his mouth full of cake.  
"You sure, Harry?"  
Seamus couldn't stop himself from asking. They haven't heard from Ron since almost 10 years and it have been already over eight years since he was declared dead by the Ministry of Magic.  
Shortly after that Ron's wife had married another man and he remembered very well how angry Harry had been about this decision.  
Harry and Hermione had a full blown fight, about Harry demanding Hermione to wait for her husband, not believing that he was gone and Hermione wanting to move on...have a family life...have someone to support her.  
Sometimes it seemed like Harry and Ron were married with each other than with their wives.  
They were closer than Dean and him...and Dean and Seamus basically lived in each other pockets. They shared an apartment and there was nothing important in Deans life that Seamus wouldn't know about.  
"totally sure. I talked with him." Harry put his fork down on his empty plate.  
"He was on the way to visit the Burrow. Bill found him by chance and immediately summoned the whole Weasley clan...Ron has lost his memory...he didn't come back...because he forgot about everyone."  
Harry's expression darkened a little.  
"Well...as long as he's alive, we can work with that." he smiled, the worry lines reappearing in his face.  
"I'm unsure if I'm of much help right now. Or if his family even wants me to be around." he looked down on his hands.  
"When he remembers, he'll be disappointed. I left his beloved sister, didn't stop Hermione from marrying someone else and I'm a shitty father."


	16. Fred

Fred Weasley had always been a light sleeper.  
Which was a very special feature, when you were a Weasley.  
Especially when your father is very likely to do slightly disturbing experiments in the basement of your house while you're asleep.  
Hearing someone screaming or say his name in the middle of the night was not unusual though, since his dad sometimes had dreams about his uncle, the first Fred Weasley.  
This was one of the reasons why Fred sometimes wished to have another name...a normal name. Like Jack or John. It was difficult to make yourself seen by your dad, when you always stood in the shadow of your own name.  
He was used to it though...and his dad often enough didn't use his name.  
Perhaps because it hurt him to think of his twin brother.  
Fred always stopped himself from thinking too much about it.  
Kerfuffle in the middle of the night and people screaming his name was really not a thing that would cause Fred Weasley to leave his bed. He'd lie there staring in the dark of his room and wait until it was quieter and fall asleep again.  
hearing someone else than his dad scream his name in the middle of the night was weird though.  
His new cousin Jamie was called "Fred" by his new uncle Ron, but it sounded different. When Uncle Ron called Jamie "Fred" he made this deep sound at the back of the throat that sounded a bit like a kneazle trying to throw up a hairball.  
Careful to no wake up his sister Roxanne and their little cousin Lily sleeping in the bunk bed at the other side of the room Fred swung his legs silently over the edge of his bed (that had belonged to his Uncle Fred in the past) and padded over the old wooden floor towards the door, following the sound of silent, dry sobs until he stood in front of the door to Uncle Ron room  
He hesitated a moment...Dad didn't like it when Fred or Roxie witnessed him having "a bad moment" how Mum called it.  
When Dad was sad, it was better to stay away from him.  
Perhaps Uncle Ron also didn't want to see him now... but then another sob echoed from behind the door and the raw grief and hurt in it, made Fred's heart hurt.  
He turned the door knob silently and entered the chamber.

The cold winter moon shining through the window made the shadows harsh and dark.  
Uncle Ron sat on the edge of his bed, the hand cramping in his hair and crying, sometimes a silent "Fred!" left his shivering lips...pleading, like he could believe it.  
Fred wanted to close the door silently, but creaked a bit too loud and Uncle Ron lifted his head.  
Hasty the man wiped with a hand over his eyes and tried a smile.  
"Hello, li'l guy!" his voice sounded raspy with all the emotion in it.  
"Sorry... did I wake you?"  
Fred nodded and padded towards the bed to sit down beside him.  
Uncle Ron was quiet for a moment and the boy could see how he tried to wrestle down this overwhelming sadness to lead a normal conversation with him.  
"You're one of George's children." he said after a while staring at the shadows the moonlight painted on the faded Chudley Cannons posters at the opposite wall.  
"I'm sorry, but I heard too many names in the last days, and my brain is pretty tiny. What was you name?" he chuckled, but it sounded so full of sorrow that Fred wanted to give his uncle a hug and tell him that he didn't need to hide his sadness.  
"It's Fred." the boy said and Uncle Ron flinched when he heard that name.  
"Isn't it weird to call children after dead people?" the man said more to himself than to the boy.  
"I did the same without knowing."  
Fred didn't know what to answer on that and so they just said there in quietness, until Fred fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, his Uncle was already gone.  
On the night stand, next to a little potion bottle, there was a a piece of paper.  
"My name is Ronald Bilius Weasley. When I was very small I saw my father cry, because his brother died. His name was Bilius and I wear it as a second name.  
I've got a Mother, her name is Molly. She had two brothers. Both brothers died. She cries sometimes in then right, when she thinks no one can see her. I feel helpless, because there's nothing you can do against death.  
I have a sister, who almost died once, back when we were kids. I was really scared.  
I had an older brother. His name was Fred. He died. It hurts a lot."

When Fred came came down stairs there were already a lot of people.  
Dad ruffled his hair and pulled him next to him.  
Fred looked at Uncle Ron to see if he was feeling better.  
He still looked sad, but his smile was a bit more collected than the night before.  
"Your son is a great kid." he heard Uncle Ron say to Dad.  
"I was a bit to loud yesterday and he came to check if I was okay. I remembered something. Losing a sibling hurts..." he gulps and looks down on his plate.  
"You remember...Fred." Fred knows always when talks about him and when about Uncle Fred...when Dad talks about his twins brother, he sounds like he's lost a part of his body.  
Uncle Ron nods and Fred tries to ignore Grandma's silent sobbing and the sudden silence that smothers the previously happy mood in the kitchen.  
"I remember that I was really scared, when my little sister almost died as a child. Because I love her, even though she's annoying as hell. I remember my mother crying in her sleep and calling her dead brothers and how I couldn't help her... and it hurts so much fucking much to see her sad!"  
Uncle Ron became bright from tears that he tried to blink away stubbornly.  
"I remember Dad crying, because Uncle Bilius died and that I wear his name...and..." He gave up and started sobbing. Helplessly Fred saw how Aunt Ginny roared like a wounded animal and jumped on her feet, rushing to her Uncle Ron's side and hugging him fiercely.  
"...and I remember... Fred." choked Uncle Ron.  
"...it _hurts_."  
Uncle Ron's fingers must leave bruises on Aunt Ginny back, so hard he clawing her back.  
"It hurts 'cause he's my _big_ _brother_. He was funny...and strong... and I thought nothing could ever make him lose that stupid grin … and he was a git! It's not fair!"

About an hour later Grandma had packed Uncle Ron's possessions back in his backpack.  
It was weird how similar his Uncles and his Aunt looked, with their red, puffy eyes and the red hair and the sad expressions, when they hugged Uncle Ron good bye.  
Jamie was still in his pyjamas and the had to pry his fingers away from Uncle Ron's sleeve, so that he could get into Uncle Percy's car, that would bring him to St. Mungos.  
Fred was a bit confused why he had to go there.  
Uncle Ron wasn't sick...he was just sad!  
Like Dad.

* * *

I cried like baby when I wrote this.  
The Weasley family is really strong that they can deal with all the deaths like that.  
I thought that when Ron would gain back his memories the ones that left the strongest emotional impact on him would probably the first to return.  
Ron and Ginny, while bickering a lot in the books, seem to be very close and I suppose Ron was scared like hell when she was thought to be dead after she got lost on the Chamber in book 2.  
Parents are important in the lives of many children and seeing your parent mourning like that, I think has also a big impact on a small child.  
in the book we learn that three of Ron's uncles are dead...Molly's brothers Fabian and Gideon were members of the OoP and died in the first war and uncle Bilius died after seeing the Grim. For this story I decided to make Bilius Arthur brother, but he could of course also be a brother of Molly.

And Fred...no one that has a heart can tell me that they weren't sad when Fred died.


	17. Victor

It was the day before new year and Victor Krum made a decision.  
Three days ago a letter has reached his household, that was addressed to his little daughter Rose. It had brought chaos to his calm family live.  
The letter of Rose's biological father to her.  
Victor had read it many times.  
With his daughter, with his wife and alone.  
A long time he had felt pretty safe that he was the most important man in the life of his wife as well as his daughter.  
Having this threatened by the first husband of Hermione and the father of his daughter made him protective.  
And while Hermione had difficulties to cope with the information that you first husband, the first person she ever loved in a romantic sense, suddenly rose up from the dead, Victor did the only intelligent thing he could think of.  
He ignored it.  
Since wasn't really anything he could do about it, the quaffle was in Rose's hands and she didn't know what to do with it. She needed time, good food, cuddles and the assurance that nothing could ever change the fact that Victor was her Dad and that he loved her.  
Victor perhaps wasn't as bright as Hermione (but that wasn't a shame, because very few people could compete with Hermione in that area) but he knew at least how to make his children feel safe and loved.  
He thought his decision wasn't that bad.  
Yet, his wife had a different opinion on that topic.  
After Hermione had a long talk at the floo with her second mother-in-law Molly (Victor liked her, but calling her the mother-in-law of his wife made him feel queasy), they appeared with a crackle in the apparition area of the St- Mungos hospital.

Victor never liked hospitals.  
Especially not when it involved his wife walking through a wing full of war victims...people that still needed medical help seventeen years after the war ended, would probably need it 'til they died.  
Victor hated to see the grey shadows of the war wash over Hermiones face.  
They passed the ward for memory loss patients, Victor saw Neville Longbottom with wife and child at the bed of an elderly woman, they waved at each other, but Hermione had other things on her mind and so they didn't come over to talk to Neville and Luna.  
At the bed beside Neville's relative there was an elderly man that once must have been pretty handsome. He had a bright but incredibly dumb smile. Next to him sat a man around their age, with the same blond, wavy hair and the same sparkling blue eyes. Probably also a relative.  
He seemed very annoyed and spoke with a strong foreign accent.  
Hermione pulled him along to the quarantine ward Rose and Hugo followed them closely.

When they reached the sealed cell that contained Ronald Weasley, there was already someone at the giant security glass window that parted it from the rest of the world.  
On the tiny in front of the glass front, there was a girl of maybe thirteen or twelve years talking with Ron in fast French.  
She had long wavy white blond hair and sparkly blue eyes. Victor thought she looked somewhat family in a holster at her left hand the was a wand with a carved seagull head. Very likely the wand was of Czech or Polish origin. They were famous for carving animal heads and other ornaments in their wands.  
"B'jour, M'ssieurs dames." the girl said friendly but a bit insecure... the fear of someone forced to speak a language they don't feel confident to speak.  
Ron just looked silently at them, searching in their faces for something, anything to help him discover what he forgot.  
He nodded them a silent greeting looking utterly defeated.

Ronald Weasley was a very tall man. Victor wasn't that small for a seeker but he was atleast a head smaller than Ron.  
His formerly black T-shirt had a faded logo of some kind of beer brand on it and was stretching over his chest. Victor had been an athlete long enough to know when someone looked like they were doing some kind of sport.  
Ron's red hair had gone a bit paler over the years and was in dire need of a hair cut, barely hiding the slightly receding hairline. The freckled face had a tired and worried look and the nose must have been broken at some point in the past.  
"Ron!" Hermione hurried to the glass window, a mix of despair and joy.  
The man at the other side looked at her, slightly worried and slightly guilty, but no sign that he was recognising the woman he married many summers ago.  
"I am really sorry." his voice sounded dull behind the glass.  
"I don't remember you."  
Victor looked away and asked himself why he agreed to join his wife.  
It would have been better if she'd visited Ron alone first instead of barging in with the whole family.  
"I am really sorry."

A sudden cluttering sound made everyone look up.  
Rose had turned around her tiny backpack, that she had insisted on bringing with her and a lot of tiny chess pieces fell on the table.  
"I want to play chess with you." she demanded sitting down at the desk in front of the glass.  
The blond girl sitting in the desk sneered flipping her hair.  
" _C'est ennuyeux_!" she pouted and looking at Ron to come up with something.  
He sighed and answered in French, gently but obviously that he would let her use him for her entertainment.  
Grumbling the girl jumped from the desk and made her way to the door that let to the next ward.  
"I'd like to play with you, if that okay with you parents, Rose." Ron said hesitant.  
"You're my father."  
Victor closed eyes, counted to ten slowly and then opened his eyes again.  
It hurt.  
This was his baby girl. He didn't care if they were blood related. They belonged together she was his daughter.  
"I didn't act much like a good father the last years." he smiled sheepishly.  
"But your Dad seems to be a good guy and I know how it feels to have child that's not your biological child. He cared for when I couldn't. He's probably much more of a father for you than I even if you and I share the same blood."  
Ron looked down on the chess board, while Rose set up the pieces.  
"At the moment I'm also not much of help for you." he looked in frustration around the tiny chamber. Except for a bed and a chair the room behind the glass window was completely empty.  
"We can still get along. I don't mind having a dad and a father."  
Victor looked at his wife and hurried towards her to hug her and hide her tears in his shoulders.  
He knew that his little girl as smart, but it was almost a little creepy how she found exactly the right words to wipe away the fear of the adults in the room.  
For a while Ron and Rose played while Ron explained patiently the chess rules to Hugo that said beside his sister.  
Hermione talked with Ron about his family and he told her that in burst the medication set memory and magic free, which was pretty violent and scary.  
This explained also, why Ron was locked in this weird cell. It was so that he wouldn't accidentally hex down his fellow patients.  
"I wish the memory came back more chronologically. It more like... the memory of an emotion knocks me basically out and then things that are connected to that emotion bubble the surface, without order."  
He told Rose his next move and the girl lost a pawn in this round.  
"I've got a lot of grief... people dying...my brother's death...and with that I also remembered my name, because it the name of a dead family member, my parents ...everything is still fuzzy but there are little details about positive emotions too."  
he smiles.  
"having my baby sister on my lap for the first time, my older brother Bill rushing to the house because I fell and my head is bleeding, how fun it was catching lizard with my older brother Charlie, sleeping in the same room with Percy and hiding behind him, when my twin brother tease me, my older brother Fred..." his voice became dry victor could see Ron's eyes becoming wet.  
"...sneaking ice cream when I was sick and telling stories about twin warriors saving the world...George and Fred making fun of me wanting sleep in Percy's bed because I was scared of the storm, but they shared the same bed a lot..."  
Ron laughed.  
"I would be nicer to have them around though...sitting here alone. Is difficult. I'm not used to being alone...or sitting around without doing something."

They when home two hours later, after multiple rounds of chess and a few cups of tea.  
Rose was happy but very tired. Hugo as already asleep on victors arm and Hermione looked a lot less worried than the last days.  
"Do you know what he said to the French girl?" she grinned, when they'd tucked their children in and he made both of them a big mug of tea.  
"he told her that she'd tell her father to sleep enough, don't worry too much and he'd better make sure that he eats at least one full meal a day...that's so much like something his mum would say!"  
she giggled.  
"Do you think..." Victor was not a very sensitive person. A homosexual couple could probably kiss themselves brainless in front of him and he'd still not notice it.  
Not that he cared much about the sexual preferences of anyone except his wife.  
She shrugged.  
"I don't know...he treated Harry sometimes similar... not the part with him threatening if he doesn't eat enough, I mean...more like...the old Ron liked to take care of people. He was often clumsy, but he tried to make everyone feel better...even if it meant making a joke or saying something stupid to get you mind away from something hurtful."  
Victor took a sip of his tea and looked at her meaningful over the edge of his mug.  
"I know what you mean." she sighed.  
"Yes, the two of them were really close...and Harry, as much as I love him, is a weird person...and he never grew out of this weird emotional dependency on Ron...but don't you think a person would notice, after years of marriage and fathering three children, that they're homosexual? I think Harry's just weird and Ron and Harry have influenced each other that they're both weird way that what they were...had nothing to do with sex or a romantic partnership."  
she smiled at him cheekily, the serious mood was gone.  
"Not to forget that Ron really enjoyed having sex with me."  
"I don't want to know that!"


	18. Lily

Lily Potter knew, that she shouldn't be walking around alone in the command centre of the British Auror forces.  
However...just because she _shouldn't_ didn't mean that she _couldn't_.  
Silently the six-year-old made her way, away from big brothers and Mum, who were still discussing with the guard, and through the office.  
Small and sneaky as she was, she didn't need a disguise to weasel her way towards her fathers office.  
The door was open and she heard father argue with another man.  
"I don't care of he's got a excellent marks and was a top student! This is not a school or academy this is _real life_!" Dad barked and Lily flinched because he sounded so angry.  
"We need people that can function in the field! We don't need people that bring their fellow Aurors in danger! How should I work together with people that I can trust with my life!"  
Lily stared at her dad with big eyes.  
She's never seen him so angry, but the other man didn't seem to be that scared of him.  
"You trust no one but yourself, Potter! We're talking about _trainee_! they're called that way, 'cause they still need training! You can't expect them to function like full-fledged Auror yet!"  
BAMM!  
Dad hit the table with his fist.  
"I can expect them to use their ruddy _brain_! This is _war_ !There's no excuse for risking your mates' life! If it weren't for Ron both of us would have _died_!"  
the man now seemed to lose it, made a step forward and lifted his fist. Was he going to hit Daddy?  
"News flash, Potter! The war ended 17 years ago! We are civil protection forces not a _fucking army_!"  
he wanted to hit him.  
"DADDY!" screamed Lily, standing in the doorway and gripping a flower skirt.  
Her face was wet and there was snot at her nose but she didn't care, because to mean guy wanted to hit Daddy and she wouldn't allow that.  
In fury she ran towards the man and started hitting and kicking the man against the knee, the shin and screeching cusses, that would make mum very angry if she heard her using them.  
She hard the guy grunting in pain and Daddy shouting, as well as steps from the neighbouring offices but she didn't stop until her father managed to grab her under the arms and pull her in a firm hug until she stopped raging.  
"Calm down, Lilybud." he muttered, cradling her gently in his arms.  
"Bloody hell! Is the whole Potter family totally bonkers? Even your wee girls try to kill me!" grumbled the man rubbing his aching shin.  
Daddy was smelling like work and anger, but his face was peaceful and his eyes soft, when he looked down on her and caressed her freckled cheek, wiping away the tears.  
"I think being so protective is more a Weasley trait. I just added a little bit of Potter stubbornness to it." he chuckled to the man.  
"Boss, I don't know what my daughter is doing here, but I think we should continue our discussion later on."  
Dad sat her down in the desk, while the man left his office and the the curious spectators that had poked their heads through the open door went back to their respective task.

"What are you doing here, Lilybud?"  
Lily looked down in her lap. The the hand-knitted tights hid ripped over one of her knobby knee. Was Daddy angry, because she ran away?  
"We wanted to visit you...but the man at the gate doesn't want to let us in...Mum's taking so long, so I went in on my own."  
Daddy looked down on her with a broad grin. She knew that look.  
It was the same, he had when Al had been showing him a new trick on the broom. Dad was proud of her.  
"You sneaked in the Auror Department, one of the best warded area in whole Britain?!" he beamed and ruffled her red hair.  
"I don't know if I should be impressed that you managed to do that without getting caught or if I should be disappointed about the lax security measurements." he laughed taking her on his arms again and twirling her around.  
"You're the coolest little girl I know, Lilybud!" he said and Lily giggled happily.

She had been said that Dad didn't come visiting for Christmas and also a bit worried that he didn't want to be with them anymore. She was scared that he didn't like her anymore, now that Mum and Dad weren't "Mum'n Dad" anymore.  
It had been a hard year, since Dad moved out last year, Mum and Dad had always been fighting a lot, but Lily never had thought they'd stop loving each other like that.  
"Did you like the present I sent you?" asked Dad and Lily nodded with a brilliant smile.  
It was like Dad to buy his children a present at WWW shop and mum had been pretty annoyed by the the little doll walking behind her proclaiming phrases of The Tales of Beetle the Bard.  
Even Al had been laughing, who was usually a lot quieter, now that Dad wasn't with them anymore.  
Christmas with all her cousins and uncles and all the people had bee brilliant.  
The she thought of her big brother.  
They'd just know for a short while, so he didn't get as much presents as her and Al. He'd gotten a football jersey from Uncle Ron and some Muggle electronic game thing...but no present from Dad.  
Was Jamie sad, because get didn't get a present?  
"Dad?" she asked and her little face was suddenly very serious.  
"Why didn't you buy a present for Jamie?"  
"J..Jamie?" stuttered Dad and looked down on her.  
"How do you..." he stopped.  
Lily chewed on her lips and her fingers clawed in his cloak. It hurt seeing Dad sad.

"Lily!" boomed Al's voice from the hallway into the room and a moment later her big brothers stood in the door, trying to catch their breath.  
Lily grinned down and them.  
They sure looked alike, both the same wiry, jet black hair and the same pale freckled skin, the same straight, slightly too big Weasley-noses.  
Al's eyes were green like Dad's while Jamie's were brown like hers and Mom's of of them were a bit too thin, which was always commented by their Grandma.  
Lily felt being put down and dad made first one hesitant step and then basically leaped towards his sons.  
Roughly touching the Jamie's hair and his high cheekbones, that reminded Lily of Uncle Percy.  
"Jamie." Dad whispered and he sounded so broken that Lily ran towards him to hug him.  
"My little...little Jamie!" he whimpered pulling both of his sons in a fierce hug, showering their foreheads, cheeks, eyes and everything he could reach with kisses.  
Dad cried.  
Lily heard herself talking and Jamie yelping in confusion about, when Daddy bundled all three of them in his arms laughing under his tears and nuzzling their hair mumbling about his children.

Half an hour later they sat in the cafeteria of the Ministry of Magic and were eating big portions of spaghetti with tomato sauce.  
People greeted them from time to time, the Weasley family was well-known in the Wizard World and Lily was very proud of her uncles and Mum.  
Dad was also kind of well-known, but some people were a bit scared of him.  
This was the first time since years Lily saw Dad and Mum speak normally, without one of them screaming or looking sad.  
They both looked so happy even joked with each other, that Lily had difficulties sitting still with all that buzzing happiness inside her.  
Al was almost melting in Dad's side while eating his noodles and beamed every time Dad talked to him.  
Jamie was quieter, observing them and barely touching his food until Mum told him to eat.  
Jamie and Mum didn't get along well.  
It wasn't that they didn't like each other...but Jamie missed Uncle Ron a lot and was very worried when Uncle Percy had brought him to the hospital this morning.  
"Ron should have told me, that Jamie was with him." grinned Dad around a mouthful of Spaghetti. Dad had bad at manners. Mum would be very angry if Lily'd eat like that.  
"You knew that Ron's back?" Mum smiled peacefully over her glass of wine.  
Dad nodded and his grin grew even broader.  
"Yeah. Saved my ruddy life." he munched "Broke my Illusion Charm and knocked Theodore Nott out, when he was in the process of killing me and one of our Auror trainees. He may have lost his memory, but he's still perceptive and fast in his reactions as ever."


	19. Albus

Albus was a quiet boy.  
Ever since he remembered he felt a bit boring next to his younger sister, who was more outgoing than him, but he had managed.  
However now, that his older brother James was back in the family, the attention of his parents was even more shifting away from him and he hated it.  
He wanted to see Dad beaming proudly at him, like he did at Lily, but he wasn't as reckless as her and he didn't like breaking the rules his mum set up, since he knew she only did it for their benefits.  
Jamie though, seemed to enjoy the mischief their younger sister did and even though they just met and them being four years apart in age, he easily captured the attention of Al's wild sister and they loved to bring trouble to Mum.

it was New Years Eve and the whole family had gathered in Dad's home, Grimmauld Place 12.  
the house was full of people and while Al liked being with them, he became really tired after a while and so he sneaked into the kitchen, the realm where Kreacher the reigned.  
The old house-elf of the property was in high spirits. It wasn't a secret, that, while he could be extremely grouchy, he loved serving his master's family and enjoyed it greatly when the old freedom fighters gathered under his roof.  
His old, wrinkled face glowed in happiness when Albus entered the kitchen and he hurried to bring him fresh chocolate chip cookies and hot chocolate, just the way, he knew Al loved them.  
Al liked him.  
Kreacher knew a lot and when no one was around, you could coax him to tell stories about old times. Some involved blood and war and violent masters, but his favourite stories was about "young master Regulus".  
It were quiet stories, about a boy and a house-elf about sneaking into the kitchen at night and sharing cookies and hot milk with honey. Stories about loving your family and trusting and protecting those dear to you, no matter if they were humans or elves.  
Sometimes Kreacher would sing elvish songs with his old, croaky voice or he'd recite a limerick to make him laugh.  
Al fell asleep his head on the old blank scrubbed wooden kitchen desk, still clutching the half-filled mug with cooling cocoa. The last thing he noticed, was Kreacher pulling a quilt over his shoulders to keep him warm.

He woke up to the mocking voice of his brother and Kreacher hissing disgruntled that he'd let "Young Master Albus" sleep.  
He cracked an eye open just to see James grab Kreacher's ears and and saying he looked weird.  
This was probably the first time Jamie saw a house-elf, so it was understandable that he was curious, but Al was already angry at his older brother and him acting so disrespectful towards his friend Kreacher, made him explode.  
The whole kitchen vibrated and the lights flickered under furious waves of magic and and tackled James to the ground, clenching his ears and pulling on them.  
James screamed in pain, but he was fast to recover enough to punch Al in the face, making his nose bleed.  
Al didn't care. He was so angry that he didn't really feel the pain. While almost two years younger than his older brother, Al wasn't much smaller than James and they were fairly even when it came to strength.  
While they wrestled on the ground, tried to tear each others hair out and land punches and kicks, there was the sound of fast steps on the stairs trampling down and Kreacher pleading them to stop.  
A moment later everything was over and Ted held them apart.  
"what's wrong with you guys?" said Victoire looking down on them. James grumbled something in French...probably something very rude, because his older cousin's eyes became very dark and her voice was sharp like a knife when she rebuked him.  
"That arsehole pulled Kreacher's ears." spat Al angrily "He thinks he can do what he wants and everyone will love him anyway, but I hate him! Kreacher is my _friend_! I don't let people hurt him!" out of his corner of his eye, he could see Kreacher stopping his work of finding things to treat his bleeding face and Jamie's eye that started to swell from a well-aimed punch.  
His old face became soft.  
"You don't need to do that, Young Master. Kreacher is really tough. Kreacher dealt with a lot more than that." he said, but Al could see that Kreacher was happy, because he'd said they were friends.

"You shouldn't say that you hate him. Jamie is your brother after all."  
Ted voice was calm and friendly, like always.  
For Al, Teddy Lupin was the coolest person he knew... except for his father. Dad would always be the coolest and strongest for him.  
They sat down on one of the big wooden kitchen benches the brothers on both sides of Ted and both had the heavy arm of the teenager on their shoulders.  
Victoire went to inform their parents. Fighting and even brawling wasn't unusual among the many cousins of the Weasley-Clan, but Al had never seen much bruises because of them on of his cousins.  
Him and James fought to really hurt each other and this made Al a bit scared, now that his fury started dwindling.  
His nose hurt and lips were bleeding and it hurt, as well as his fist that he used to hit his brother.  
He started to cry.  
"There there, young master." Kreacher's wrinkled hand patted his own sympathetically, before pushing a new mug of hot chocolate in his hands. He handed one to Ted and Jamie too and Al heard his brother saying silently sorry for hurting the house-elf.  
"It's fine, Young Master James. Kreacher is happy to have you back in the family." the old elf said with one of his toothy smiles.  
Kreacher performed a cooling charm for Jamie's eye and and gave Al a wet towel for his nose.  
"the last time Kreacher saw a fight like that it was young Master Regulus and his older brother..." the house-elf mumbled under his breath.  
"Kreacher is getting too old for this."

Two hours later, they stood at the top balcony of house, looking over city and watching the fireworks.  
Al's tiny hand was in Dad's callused one and while his nose still hurt a bit, he was in a quite peaceful mood.  
James laid one arm around his shoulder and and nudged him with his head that was full of stubborn, wiry, black hair, like his own.  
Fighting with his older brother was easy, but so was making peace.

When he woke up the next morning, the whole house was still quiet.  
He'd slept with all his cousins in the attic of the house. It had been fun laying in sleeping bags and hearing Victoire and Dominique tell stories about Hogwarts sometimes interrupted by Ted and their cousin Fred.  
Rose, his closest cousin was still asleep next to him, hugging her younger brother Hugo in her sleep.  
Hugo often had bad dreams, so it wasn't unusual to find him in Rose's bed. It was kind of notable, that Victoire was fast asleep in the arms of Ted Lupin though.  
Lily stirred when Al sat up, blinking sleepily in the morning sun.  
"Go back to sleep, Lily." he muttered before leaving the attic fast and running down stairs towards the main bedroom on third he entered the room was empty the bed was already made and the window was opened to let the cool winter air in.  
Al sighed disappointed and sat down on the edge of the bed.  
He'd hoped to find his Dad here and sneaking a bit alone time with Dad, but his father had probably already gone to work.  
Dad was always working. Sometimes he was gone for weeks and when he came back he had wounds, he was very tired and hungry and smelled funny.  
Al hated it when Dad was gone too long.


	20. Harry

It was five in the morning, when finally everyone had gone to sleep.  
Harry's mind was still full of the conversation with all his friends and family.  
Even when he'd heard that Jamie and Al had a fight, he couldn't help but grin happily and George who had sitting beside him at the table had stated unmoved that fight were natural between brothers.  
Harry had thought for a moment if George at any time fought like that with his twin brother, but since he didn't want to spoil the good mood.  
Fred was still a touchy topic in this family.  
George told him, what happened that evening, at his and Angelina's wedding, and Harry was again shortly before spoiling the mood and hexing George to the next week, for taking away _his_ Ron, but Percy and Bill were fast to be beside him and explaining, that while George had done something incredible stupid, he still did this to protect him and in the firm believe that Ron was save.  
Harry didn't forgive George for tearing two young families apart, but he understood that it wasn't out of ill will and so he decided to keep quiet about it.  
Even when they told that they had given him to St. Mungos to make sure he was safe, while they destroyed the anti-magic barrier around him and that of all people they let _Draco Malfoy_ take care of him, he stayed relatively calm and still had fun, talking with the Weasleys, drinking with Hermione's Husband Victor and playing games with the children.

But while doing this, the thought of Ron sitting alone in some kind of cell instead of partying with his family, never left his thoughts.  
This was the reason he entered St. Mungos a few minutes after five. Being a regular guest in the house as a patient as well as as a visitor, he knew very well where the quarantine cells were. The illusion charm he was wearing was powerful enough to fool the protection wards as well as the few healers of the night shift.  
Fast he crossed the wards for intoxication (full, because of new-year) and memory-loss until he reached the part that was designed for the quarantine patients.  
He passed a few other cells, most of the patients were asleep. A young girl was pacing the room randomly shooting fireworks out of her hands until he reached Ron's chamber.  
In the back part of the room behind the glass barrier he could see a redhead poking out of the white bed sheets.  
He was sure that the door was warded, so he just let the glass pane disappear climbed inside the whole.  
Ron would have probably threatened to kill him, if he'd known what Harry did next.  
With a tip of his wand against the Redhead's body, Ron changed his shape into a tiny, golden-red weasel.  
Pleased with the result, since it meant that the barrier around Ron's already damaged enough to make it possible to transfigure him, he carefully lifted up and let the sleeping animal slide into one of his pockets. Then he hastily left first the cell, rematerialised the glass pane and left swiftly on the same way he he'd come inside the hospital.  
Ron would kill him for turning him into a weasel.

When he entered his safehouse in York, the weasel in his pocket was still asleep.  
After renewing the wards for the apartment, he carefully placed the weasel on his sofa before turning Ron back into a human.  
He felt himself relax when he heard the familiar snoring.  
Ever since him and Ron lived in different houses, had different partners, Harry had never been sleeping well.  
Probably it would have been saver to stay away, but he felt so tired that he could barely manage getting to the ground safely without getting hurt.  
Sitting on the thick carpet in front of the sofa he laid his head on the cushion nuzzling his head slightly against the pyjama-clad rib-cage of his best friend.  
Ron still smelled the same, he thought, before giving in to the sleep.

He woke up a few hours later, by Kreacher rudely shaking him.  
"Master Harry had need to wake up!" the house-elf said with his raspy, high voice and Harry blinked a him trying to get a sharp view on what ever was shaking him.  
"'M awake..." he mumbled "pl's' st'p shakin' me..."  
Kreacher stopped and tried very hard to look guilty.  
He'd known that Kreacher would be able to find him. Despite their small size and their submissive role inside most wizard homes house-elves were strong magical being and they could easily find people that weren't able to be found by other wizards.  
Back then, when they lost Ron ans James, they'd tried sending Kreacher after them, but the magical barrier had been to strong for the house-elf to find him.  
Finding his master was for Kreacher a piece of cake though.

"What's wrong, Kreacher." Harry asked sitting up and looking at the house-elf that put a little envelope in his hands. Despite having his name as the recipient on it, the magical seal bearing the crest of the St. Mungos Hospital was already broken.  
"This came in the mail today. Mrs. Krum opened it, because the family was worried if everything was okay with with Master Potters Wheezy." explained Kreacher using the name that Dobby always had used for Ron and made Harry's heart ache a little bit.  
The envelope felt heavy in his hands and there was some round in there.  
Carefully he pulled out the letter and knew after the first words, who was the writer.  
" _Potter._ " he read what was written in pointy letters.  
" _I know, the only one stupid and at the same time skilful enough to pull this off is you, so don't deny it.  
Kidnapping Weasley from the quarantine ward makes you an even bigger idiot, that I ever thought.  
Don't you think that there could perhaps a reason he was placed there?!  
You bring him, yourself and your family in big danger if you let him walk around freely like that.  
I know I can not convince you to bring him back, but please make at least sure that he's somewhere, where he can't accidentally hurt other people than you and him.  
He has to take 10 of these drops in the morning and in the evening. Don't forget them, this is important!  
You are a bloody idiot and I could jinx you for how much paper work I've got to do because you can't play by the rules for a change.  
I hope you die a painful death by intestinal obstruction,  
Draco Malfoy"_

"Always a charmer, Malfoy." Harry muttered with a thin-lipped smiled and pulled a small bottle outside of the envelope.  
"thank you, Kreacher. Tell the family that we're okay, they don't need to worry about us and stay please away from here for now... I don't know how stable Ron is during one if his fits, and I don't want you to get hurt."  
Kreacher's gaze wandered to Ron, who was still asleep on the sofa.  
"Kreacher will do as Master Harry says." answered the house-elf and with a crackle he disappeared in thin air.  
Harry stood up and looked at the clock. It was shortly after eight.  
Harry thought about leaving Ron alone to get a shower and make some breakfast, but he didn't want him to wake up in an empty room that he didn't know.  
He didn't want him to freak out and so he returned back to the sofa, carefully sitting on the edge of the cushion at Ron's side.  
A content smile on his lips he looked down on his sleeping best friend.

Ever since they became friends in their first year in Hogwarts, Harry had always known that Ronald Weasley was the most important person in his live.  
It taken him a long time though, several years and one marriage to the wonderful, deeply loved Ginny, that he understood that this love he felt for his best friend was not purely platonic.  
Ginny had been already pregnant with Jamie and Ron had been married to Hermione for several years already, when he finally figured it out and as soon as he did figure it out he had buried so deep in the pile of things he didn't need to think about because they're unreachable, that he really barely thought about it.  
In all these years it was just one time he'd acted on it.  
Shortly before Ron vanished they'd been on a mission and Ron got hurt and not in the condition to be side-alonged.  
He was lying in front of Harry in this ruddy wizard tent and was so pale that Harry for a moment thought he was dead.  
He'd been desperate.  
It was freezing outside and even with loads warming charms Ron's body grew colder and colder.  
And perhaps he had ulterior motifs too, but his main thought was to keep Ron warm, when he pulled of his shirt and slipped into the sleeping bag beside Ron, spreading his own sleeping bag above both of them to give them additional warmth.  
And he'd pulled him close and shared his body warmth and kissed the crook of Ron's neck and rubbed his best friend's upper body with his hands until the body temperature finally went back to normal.

Most of the time it had been surprisingly easy. Perhaps because, subconsciously it had been that way for so long, that it didn't change the way Harry acted around him.  
It really became hard for Harry, when Ron vanished though.  
Harry missed his son like crazy but it was losing Ron that left him emotionally crippled.  
He tried hard to function.  
Not even a year after they lost James and Ron Ginny had been pregnant again and Harry tried hard to be a good husband, a good Auror, a good support for the Hermione and baby Rose...but he'd never managed to et a full night of sleep he was barely able to get up in the morning.  
Mornings and days without Ron, were boring and lost days.  
Looking at his son Albus made him think of the older brother James and he felt so guilty that he had difficulties holding his child.  
Ginny was different than Ron, but she was beautiful and smart and he loved her and she reminded him so much of Ron that Harry was clinging to her every night and he had felt bad about it.  
Because Ginny was brilliant and she deserved to be the most important person of her husband.  
Their marriage was already broken when Ginny had been pregnant with Lily, but they continued to try, both of them.  
Ginny broken by losing their first-born and Harry who just was not able to function properly as a human being, when Ron wasn't around.  
Feeling ashamed for using Ginny like that and for failing as a father, Harry spend more and more time on missions and made excuses to spend the night in one of his safehouses instead of at home.  
Finally, last spring, Ginny had enough.

Now, thought Harry looking down on his sleeping best mate, Ron was back.  
He felt whole again.  
"Ron." he muttered and stroked a few strands of red hair behind the ear, resting his hand on Ron's cheek.  
"Ron, wake up." he whispered and leaned his head against the other man's forehead.  
Ron's face was so close.  
"come on, mate! Wake up!" he nuzzled his nose against Ron's.  
He liked the way he smelled.  
He closed his eyes for a moment himself, enjoying the proximity, when he opened them again he looked in the sleepy blue eyes of his best friend.  
But there wasn't the deep trust and the recognition in Ron's eyes. This person was Ron, but it wasn't _his_ Ron.  
 _"Bloody hell."_ muttered Ron and shoved him away.  
"don't sneak up on me like that."


	21. Harry 2

Harry had to agree with Malfoy.  
The only one stupid enough to voluntarily deal with Ron in this condition was probably really him, he thought, while wading through knee-deep mud.  
After having a very awkward breakfast together, Harry had left Ron for twenty minutes alone in the apartment, to visit the office and take a week off.  
The Coordinator of the Auror Department knew already that Harry's eldest son was back so he wasn't surprised...more like delighted.  
Harry usually spend too much time with work anyway, in his opinion.

When Harry entered the studio apartment he was instantly surrounded by mosquitoes and hem his cloak was soaked with mud in seconds. The walls seemed to have vanished and somewhere very far away he heard Ron screaming for help.  
So, that's what Malfoy meant, when he was talking Ron being a danger for his surroundings. Since Ron hadn't used up the magic inside him, now that it could get out, it poured out wildly and with a immense force and Ron didn't know how to control it.  
What when he was in danger? He sounded pretty scared!  
Harry walked faster,  
First find Ron, then try to do something against the marsh in his living room, he told himself.  
"Ron?!" he yelled "where are you!? Can you hear me?!" he listened, but there was no answer.  
He started to panic.  
Running in the mud was difficult and Harry was sure, that there were areas where you could drown.  
Harry cursed under his breath and tried calling Ron again and this time there was an answer.  
He followed the voice and tried answering but he sounded just weak and pathetic.

When he found Ron, the redhead stuck in the mud up to the his hips and he desperately tried to get out of the swamps grip.  
"Harry!" he cried. His voice was was hoarse from yelling and the instant relief that swept over Ron's face when he noticed Harry, was like a window to the past.  
"Stop moving around so much, It will make you sink faster. Try to be still! We'll get you out of there, Ron!"  
Harry didn't think, he just did.  
Using magic in this area that was already highly polluted by magic was probably not advised so he broke a branch from a nearby birch tree and laid it close enough so that Ron could get a hold of it.  
Staying on dry ground and slinging one arm around the tree's trunk he pulled with all his might at the branch.  
Since Ron was taller than him, he was heavier than him and they had to fight the swamp for every inch. Harry's muscles and lungs felt like they were burning when Ron finally was able to sit down on the sludgy grass next to him.  
They both stayed quiet for a moment, Ron's shoulder was touching his and Harry leaned slightly against him.  
"

Thanks, Harry."  
It felt good being pulled in a one-armed, blokish hug and Ron slapping his back, the awkward mood was gone.  
"Sorry for bringing you out of the hospital." Harry looked down on his mud-caked trousers. It's very thin about the knobby knees, he probably should by knew ones.  
He felt guilty. In the hospital they'd know what to do with Ron and he was safe, while being with him for just a few hours almost got him killed by his own magic.  
"Don't be. They couldn't do more than locking me in an empty room. Yesterday morning I accidentally set one of the nurses on fire."  
Ron squeezed his shoulder before letting him go.  
"Hey Mr Wizard! an't you do something against this mosquitoes? I think they'll eat me alive if we stay here longer."  
that was the keyword to make Harry start rummaging in his brain for a way to remove the swamp from his living room.  
Hermione would probably have known what to do in an instant.  
"There must be some way to remove, but an easy _Finite Incantatem_ probably isn't enough for this. Were you trying to copy the twins or something?"  
Harry smiled, Ron beside him had his eyes closed. He looked exhausted.  
"Sleep, Ron. I'll find a way." his silent begging for trust and stayed unsaid. He never thought he'd needed to be trusted this much...with every other person it didn't really matter anymore if they trusted him to do the right thing...but not Ron. Harry needed Ron to believe in his good intentions, he needed Ron to trust him.  
A silent nod.  
A moment later the quiet, comforting snoring echoed through the forest.  
Harry felt a wave of tiredness wash over him, he rubbed his eyes and looked down on the sleeping form of his best friend.  
The materialisation of the swamp must cost a lot of energy, he better made sure to end it quickly, so Ron wouldn't suffer too much from magical fatigue.

It took him a long time and a sheer endless list of spells until he finally found one that worked.  
The beige carpet was clouded with a dark muddy pattern around Ron body and Harry's knees, but except of that the room was back to normal.  
Harry spoke a quick cleaning spell for their cloths and the carpet, then he dragged Ron towards the sofa and tried to shove him on the cushions without waking him.  
Ron sleepily opened his eyes and mumbled something unintelligible before he climbed on the couch, flopped on his side and fell instantly asleep again.  
Harry watched him sleep for a moment stroking a strand of sun-bleached red hair out of the other man's face, a relieved smiled ghosted over his features and he allowed himself a moment to catch up with his thoughts, then he went in the kitchen to fetch himself some tea.  
He was so deep in thoughts that he left the tea bag in the mug for too long.  
He tried to make the taste better with a bit of milk and rock sugar but it still tasted too bitter.  
Harry took it with him back to Ron, sitting down on the floor in front of the sofa and leaning his back against it.

Harry wasn't sure how long he just sat there, staring in the empty room and clutching his mug with cooling tea, when silent mumbles made him lift his head and turn around.  
"Anyone sitting here? Everywhere else is full." Harry faintly heard the mug of cold milk-tea fall to the ground soaking his trousers and the carpet, when he hurriedly sat on the edge of couch leaning over his best friend.  
"can't we follow the butterflies..." muttered Ron under his sleep.  
He was dreaming. Obviously not very pleasant dreams. He was shifting a lot and the expressions changing faster than Ted Lupin changed his hair colour.  
"that means great happiness...you'll suffer, but you'll be happy about it..." Harry felt his eyes getting wet and he could help but reach for the the twitchy hand of the sleeping man.  
"If you want to kill Harry, You've got to kill us too!"  
he couldn't listen any longer.  
"Ron!" he yelled, shaking him roughly.

A flare of bright blue light later, Ron looked down on the rubber-like, Harry-shaped pile on the carpet.  
"Bloody hell, Harry!" he exclaimed dumbfounded, but followed the muffled instructions, bringing a Express Skele Gro from the kitchenette and carefully pouring it down Harry's throat.  
That stuff tasted nasty like always, but Harry was still grateful, when he felt the familiar burning of his bones growing back.  
It took two hours until Harry could sit normally again and his skull was back to his usual shape.  
Ron had cooked lunch and eaten in the meantime. he didn'T show any signs, that he remembered his dreams.  
When Harry's jaw was stable enough for him to eat, Ron brought him a bowl of onion soup with cheese and toast.  
"You need to stop waking me like this." the Red-head grinned sitting down beside him on the sofa.  
"I'm a dangerous bloke at the moment." he nudged his shoulders with his own an the sudden touch made Harry almost release his hold around the bowl.  
"You were talking in your sleep...I couldn't wait to know if you were remembering..," he muttered sheepishly and started eating, not daring to look up.  
He felt so vulnerable and different with the old Ron, that knew all his weaknesses anyway, he hated that feeling.  
"I do remember... _some_ things..." he heard Ron next to him whisper.  
"But they don't make sense... there are still too many memories missing, to understand them."  
Carefully Harry peered at Ron through his too long hair, his head low.  
Ron looked positively knackered.  
"I'm sorry, Harry." he said with rueful smile and for a little moment Harry thought he'd seen the old Ron under the surface of this unfamiliar distant person.

* * *

We're getting closer, Ron is starting to regain his memories.  
I devided Harry's chapter, because i wanted to keep the length similiar to the other chapters.


	22. Henry and Ron

To say he was confused was putting it lightly.  
Sometimes he felt more like Ron, a Ron that changed in age depending on which memory randomly decided to flood his brain and sometimes he was Henry again and he felt in control, relaxed and normal.  
His moods and his identity changed every minute and he was scared that his rampaging magic accidentally caused something that couldn't be repaired by Harry.

Speaking of Harry.  
That bloke had the patience of an Angel.  
One would think that after the indoor swamp incident and his body being turned into something rubber-like and having painfully to regrow the bones, Harry would at least get a bit impatient.  
But no!  
Harry was still so bloody considerate and a little bit clingy, as Henry learned to know a few days ago. The few memories he regained of Harry, showed a young black-haired boy, with low self-esteem and an affinity to bring himself into trouble.  
He remembered shy smiles, sitting in class and quietly talking rubbish together and the feel of envy to see him fly.  
With the last memories there came a rush of emotions came back that linked to flying. The desperation that came with being a Chudley Canons fan, watching his first Quidditch game. Sitting on a broom for the first time, perhaps he was three. Bill held him steady in his arms while they slowly hovered over the grass. It smelled of apples.  
Playing Quidditch together with his brothers in the garden. The pure fascination to see Charlie fly.  
Playing as a keeper...Henry sometimes played football with his friends in Rue.  
He was not a bad field player but he always liked being the keeper the most. Controlling the defence, make sure the offence can do their thing, staying in the background until he was really needed and then saving the day.  
It made sense.  
Charlie, the genius player, had been the Seeker.  
Ginny and Bill preferred the Chaser position at the front lines of the game, almost fearless, confident and strong.  
Fred and George just wanted to pester everyone as well as they could, so the played as Beaters. Percy stayed out of the game must of the time, but was there to pick up the pieces.  
If he played, he was a Chaser, even though playing completely different than Bill and Ginny. Percy's way to play Quidditch was tactical, success-oriented and damage-minimising...Ron actually liked to see him play.  
He wasn't the fastest or the biggest expert in flying, but more than once he's won against even Bill, because he was clever and knew how to use his opponent's weaknesses to his advantage.  
And Ron...Ron liked supporting his team, smoothing the edges, filling the gaps, controlling their own goal area. He liked being a Keeper.  
Harry had been a Seeker too, even though probably not as good as Charlie.  
Charlie was the best at Quidditch after all.

It was already getting dark, when Harry came back into the apartment again with two portions of Fish and Chips and plastic bags filled with groceries.  
Henry had asked him to buy food, because he couldn't see himself live for days of onion and crisps which were the only edible things that were left.  
Harry had been hesitating. Henry could see that he didn't want to leave him alone, after what happened in the morning.  
It needed a bit of persuasion but in the end Harry had gone out and left Ron...Henry...whoever he was at that moment alone in the apartment.  
Luckily nothing happened this time.  
Henry had spend the next two hours dozing on the couch. He was too knackered to even turn on the light when the air was turning blue and it started to get evening.  
Harry smiled at him and Ron asked himself again how the memories of the timid black-haired boy should fit together with this wiry man in his thirties with the clingy personality.  
He helped him to put away the groceries then they sat down to eat.

Eating with Harry fun. Harry was just happy having "Ron" around and was joking a lot. Telling about his younger children, Al and Lily, and asked a lot of questions about Fred.  
Henry still felt weird anything else than "Fred" but he begrudgingly accepted that the boy was "Jamie" for everyone else.  
Talking about the boy was easy. He told anecdotes about their life in France, about handling a toddler while cooking in a pub kitchen and about the first time he witnessed the kid doing magic (nearly pissed myself, when he let the butcher knife float towards him!).  
Harry showed genuine interest. He obviously had missed his son a lot. Ron was happy about that, but he was still a little bit unsure if he was able to just act as a uncle for little _Jamie_ from now on.  
He didn't know if he'd ever get used to it.  
If you spend over nine years being someone's surrogate Father, it not easy to stop acting like that.  
Harry was easy to talk with, but his smiles were always a little bit weary, as if he'd seen to much in his life already. He'd seen this expression on police officers, veteran soldiers and a few people from the big city that once came to visit the town.  
Old men and women in young bodies.  
Harry was getting nervous when Henry stared at him to long. His expression becoming more guarded and the movements of his fingers twitchy and uneasy.  
"How does _your_ job work with bringing up your children?" he asked without blinking. It was a bit funny how easy it was to make Harry feel uncomfortable.

"Uhm..." muttered Harry and he looked ashamed.  
" Not very well..." his head sunk low and he poked around in the rests of his fish.  
"The main reason Ginny and I broke up. I'm often gone for weeks because of work. And I'm bad at being a dad in general. I Grew up without parents myself, so I feel kind of helpless when it comes to dealing with my children...in a Dad-way. I try to be a good father, but..." he broke off took a few bites of his fish.  
"I'm sorry, Ron." he mumbled silently avoiding to look at Ron.  
"Why do you apologise? It's not like it would affect me directly..." the Redhead frowned scratching the last pieces from his plate. Harry laughed bitter.  
"You're still not yourself yet! The Ron I know is extremely protective of his younger sister. I promised to take good care of her and cherish her, so I feel guilty about not keeping my promise."  
Henry grumbled "You still should tell her not me, that you feel sorry for breaking up with her. She's the one that got hurt after all."

He didn't know why this didn't make him angry.  
Ron was sure, that if it were any other guy, he'd be furious if they neglected the marriage with his sister and didn't support her properly with their mutual children.  
The feelings for his siblings and parents were the first memories that came back after all.  
But with Harry he felt weirdly relieved and he couldn't place it.  
As if he'd been jealous of his sister and wanted them to break up...but even thinking about that was utterly ridiculous!  
He _loved_ his sister. He wanted her to be _happy_!  
There was no way he'd want her marriage to be destroyed.

His head started throbbing when he tried to get deeper into his memories, tried to understand what happened in the past.  
A memory flickered in front of his eyes and the room seemed to disappear from his vision.  
It was very cold and he was standing in some kind of lake. There was a hole in the frozen surface of the lake and under the ice there was the blurry shadow of a human fighting for their life.  
Without a second thought he dived in and pulled Harry to the surface.  
There was a sword and a lot of insecurity, he destroyed, what seemed to be a little pendant with the sword.  
He felt desperate and he'd wanted to be seen, wanted to be the most important, the one to trust.  
Someone was shaking him roughly, but the overwhelming flood of memories washing over him was stronger.  
Jealousy.  
A brilliant woman with bushy brown hair. Hermione. A kiss amidst the war.  
People dying. People he loved. Tonks, Lupin...Fred.  
His heart felt like it would explode from all these contradicting emotions.  
He'd seen so many people getting killed, getting tortured. He'd done terrible things.  
He'd killed.  
He was so scared.  
He'd seen Harry dead. It had killed him inside. He didn't want to live,if Harry and Hermione, if his family wasn't around.  
He needed them.  
Needed them to be save!  
There was war and Ron couldn't escape it.

Ron opened his eyes and scanning the room disorientated for a moment until he understood where he was.  
Harry was still alive. Even though Voldemort had said he was dead, he was still alive.  
Relief.  
With a gut-wrenching sob, he jerked Harry in his arms and hid his face in the crook of his neck.  
Harry arms closed instantly around his shoulders without a words. The plates cluttered loudly when they fell on the floor, spreading crumbs around.  
"they tortured Hermione. They said you were dead. People died! Friends got hurt! I killed people!" The words broke out of him between his heart-rending sobs. Ron hands clawing helplessly into Harry worn-out cloak.  
"I know." croaked Harry, awkwardly stroking the back of Ron's head and almost toppling over from the weight of the redhead leaning against him heavily.  
"I know."


	23. Harry 3

It was already pretty late, when Ron's hands stopped clawing into his back, the sobbing and shivering stopped and he heard the telltale snoring close to his ear.  
"Bloody Hell, Weasley! At least you could have stopped clinging to me and lie down before falling asleep." he murmured under his breath and half-heartedly tried to push Ron off of him, but gave up fast and leaned back, using the arm rest as a pillow.  
He smiled sadly his fingers playing with the red curls. He'd been desperate for Ron to remember fast, but now he felt a bit guilty about it.  
Ron had been without the trauma of the war, he'd been happy. Why did he need him to remember all the terrible things that happened during the war?  
Seeing Ron deal with all this mess again was had worn him out, the crusts around his own eyes made Harry realise that must have cried too.  
Most of the time he tried to not think about the war.  
It hurt too much and he needed to focus on his present task, to prevent more victims.  
Ginny once said that he only became an Auror because fighting dark wizards was the only way he knew to effectively hide from his own past.  
It was also the only way he knew to escape the gaping hole, that Ron and Jamie left. Doing what he was confident to do right, after he failed to keep his special humans with him and safe.  
His hand wandered down from the back of Ron's head to his nape and he softly caressed the sinewy trapecius muscles.  
It was okay now.  
Jamie was back at home and Ron was in his arms, his comforting weight on his chest.  
Everything was good, as long as they were there.  
They could fix things...as long as everyone was alive they still had the chance fix things.

Just when he was starting to drift off into sleep too, he tore his eyes open.  
The potion.  
Since Ron had reacted badly on Harry shaking him and yelling at him to wake him up, this time Harry tried a slightly gentler approach.  
Silently whispering his name, to fit the proximity and tenderly nudging his shoulders and neck.  
Ron grumbled unwilling to wake up, scrunching his face. Harry laughed fondly and stroked with a finger over the slightly too big nose until the wrinkles between the eyebrows relaxed and Ron opened his eyes drowsily.  
"Harry..." he mumbled, the deep understanding was finally there. This was _"his"_ Ron again.  
"You need to take your potion." answered Harry the unspoken question.  
Ron chuntered something unintelligible and sat up. The sudden cold air at his upper body let Harry shiver, but he recovered fast, making his ways to the kitchen counter and coming back with the little bottle and a spoon.  
"You know I can do that myself, mate..." mumbled Ron amused watching Harry let drops drops of the honey-coloured potion fall in the spoon and obediently opening his mouth to take them.  
He shook his head and grimaced.  
"Tastes awful!" he complained.  
Harry laughed again and ruffled his hair, enjoying the feeling of silky red hair flowing through his fingers a bit too much. This was his Ron. The Ron that he needed to be with him.  
That was at least what he thought, until Ron leaned slightly against his hand and suddenly breathing became very difficult.  
 _"His_ Ron never reacted, when Harry allowed himself to touch him like that.  
On rare moment Ron initiated physical affection, he would give awkward one-armed hugs or blokish pats on the back or shoulders mostly after events that had threatened to kill either him or Harry, but the Ron he knew would never openly show than he enjoyed being petted by another man.  
Even if it was Harry.  
Harry opened his mouth, but the words got lost on the way. He probably looked extremely stupid in thst moment, staring down on Ron who quietly leaned his head in Harry palm, trusting eyes peacefully looking up to him.  
It seemed like a small eternity until Harry finally was able to have a clear thought and not just blankly stare down on his best friend.  
This was Ron.  
Ron was having a hard time with his memories coming back. He needed Harry to be there for him and make him feel safe. Ron did _not_ see Harry in _that_ way.

Harry let his hand sink and turned around to hide the the tide of emotions that washed over his face.  
He brought the potion bottle back to the kitchenette and threw the spoon in the sink.  
When he turned around, Ron still looked at him, as if he was waiting for Harry to say something.  
Harry stayed quiet though, not trusting his voice.  
Wordlessly he padded back to the couch.  
He didn't have a bed in this safehouse, usually he'd just pass out on the couch, when he was here.  
"You should go back to sleep, Ron. It's late and you need to regenerate after exuding all that magic today." he said picking up the plates and cutlery that was littered over the carpet and brought them to the sink.  
With a lazy wave of his wand the the leftover crumbs of their fish and chips disappeared from the carpet and he was about to sit down in front of the sofa again, when a hand closed around his wrist and stopped him.  
"You don't plan to sleep on the floor, Harry?" Ron grunted in disfavour and the lightly coloured eyebrows kissed above his nose.  
"Well, I've just one Sofa, and sleeping on it with a big oaf like you would be much more uncomfortable than sleeping on floor." Harry shrugged, while thinking that there were far more terrible activities out there than cuddling with your best mate in a small space.  
"You're a wizard, Harry." reminded him Ron with his characteristical lopsided grin. "You could just make the sofa bigger."  
Harry was a bit embarrassed when he answered "You know, that I'm rubbish at household spells. I can tell you hundreds of combat spells, but I don't think I remember any spell to extent a sofa."  
Ron blinked for a moment, then his eyes glittered with confidence.  
He stretched his hand out.  
"Give me my wand, Harry."

Harry hesitated.  
How did Ron even know that his wand was with him?  
Ron's magic was still unstable, what if he'd accidentally hurt himself when using it?  
"Harry. The wand." Ron's voice became harsher, demanding.  
He probably shouldn't do this but he still pulled Ron's wand from the holster he wore around his left upper arm, well-hidden under his jumper.  
It was probably pretty stupid to carry around your lost partner's wand with you, but it made him feel safe when he was on missions.  
"thanks, mate." Ron smile made his heart flutter. Harry urgently needed to gain back the easiness to interact normally with Ron fast. This was starting to get difficult.  
" _Extendo_." Ron flicked his wand towards the sofa and the seating area extended to the size of a normal double bed.  
Harry wanted to kiss that proud grin of him, watching Ron twirl the wand in his hand relaxed.  
"Mum used it on Fred's bed when we were kids, because him and George often fell asleep in there together." explained said best mate giving the wand back to Harry.  
"take care of it for now. I think my magic is still too unstable to carry it with me."  
Harry nodded and sat down on the sofa.  
"We should go to sleep." he mumbled numbly and flopped on his back.  
He could barely see Ron nod in the darkness of the room, then he felt the cushions go down a bit when he dropped down in the makeshift bed.  
"Night, Harry..." grumbled Ron sleepily and before Harry could answer, snoring filled the room again.  
Harry envied Ron for his ability to fall asleep so fast.


	24. Jan

The 2nd January 2015 started as a quiet day for Jan Lockhart.  
He cleaned his pub, brought his daughter to the magical submarine that'll bring her to her school and after that he apparated to the St. Mungos Hospital.  
He shortly visited his father, but that was more infuriating than anything else, and lamented in his mind that he has already has spend too much time visiting people in hospitals in his live.  
With his wife being permanently institutionalised after her third attempt to kill on their daughter Pauline. It wasn't that she didn't love her child, she was extremely scared of the magical talents of the girl.  
If it was someone's fault it was probably Jan's because h as the one falling in love and marrying a Muggle and never telling her that he was wizard.  
Then there was his father, who lost his memory...probably because he did something stupid, no one really knew what had happened to him. Memory-charm were his father's speciality, so probably it was some spell having gone wrong.  
And now his working partner Henry was here too.

He had met Henry by accident when they'd both were eating lunch in the cafeteria of the hospital.  
Henry had accidentally witnessed him doing a cleaning charm to remove a big tomato sauce stain from Pauline's shirt and Jan had tried to do a memory spells, which didn't work.  
He tried a few other spells, but the result was the same.  
Magic didn't work on Henry Dupont.  
This and the fact that the obviously magically-talented toddler, the red haired man had with him made him believe that Henry had contact to the wizard world at some point.  
It was probably not pure altruism that that he decided to help Henry.  
He it was easy to get along with Henry.  
The Redhead was optimistic and adapted fast to the new environment and language. He made friends fast, was a team player and Pauline liked him from the start.  
After the custody question for Fréderic was solved, he moved relatively fast to Rue. He didn't like the city and it was easier to hide early childhood magic in a village.  
Henry learned how to cook, he took care of the children, which made it possible for Jan to have a job in a wizard laboratory beside the pub.  
People liked coming , because they liked the food and the friendly atmosphere, something that was strongly connected to the unobtrusive presence of his friends.  
Always a good-natured joke, a good listener and a willing to help whenever someone had a problem, he was so popular in the village, that they even endured getting fooled by Henry's rascally surrogate son.  
For Jan and his daughter, Fred and Henry were part of their family and Jan sometimes joked that his neighbour was almost like a second wife for him.

Meeting Henry's family was like a hit in the stomach, since it gave him the certainty that Henry never really belonged to him.  
He belonged to this gigantic clan of red-headed people that were all so fucking nice, that you couldn't hate them even if you tried really hard.  
First he had tried to keep them away from Henry, everything to keep his little family complete (or almost, since they still missed Marine), but Henry found out and he'd started talking with the family.  
Jan had been right, Henry had been a wizard.  
And extraordinary wizard, if it was true what the Weasley told them.  
And Jan also had been right, that the Weasleys are a threat to his household.  
First it was Fred they took with him, calling him James. He supposed it was actually good to give a child back to its mother, but he still didn't like letting the boy go.  
He was like a son to him.  
He had changed his diapers, nursed him back to health when he was sick and scolded him, when he messed up.  
He hated giving him up.  
After that henry went to get his memory-loss treated.  
When they said good-bye that morning, he knew, when they met the next time, Henry would probably not exist anymore and the one living in that body would be Ronald Weasley.  
He grieved for losing his friend that morning.  
That he visited him so often, was also to make sure, that the red-haired man wouldn't forget him. He wanted to remind him, who raised two children together with him, who shared for other nine years his happy moments and defeats.  
Jan wouldn't give up so fast.

"What do you _mean_ you lost him?!" he screamed ten minutes later ant the nurse of the memory-loss ward.  
"You're Britain's leadink magical healz institoote! How can a person that can't even use magic escape from here?!"  
Nurse looked over her shoulder nervously and asked him to be quieter, but Jan had other problems than being considerate at the moment, however a sudden hand on his arm stopped his tirade of German and French swearwords.  
"Mister, how about we discuss this in my office." said a icy voice behind him and he turned around.  
Behind him was one of the healers of the hospital.  
A white-blond man with cold, grey eyes and an expression that look like he constantly had a bad smell in his nose.  
"Malfoy, I'm the head healer here." he said and Jan begrudgingly shook hands with him.  
This guy was truly dislikeable and he didn't even know him yet.  
"Jan Lockhart. I'm Henry Dup... Ronald Weasley's working partner."  
The healer smirked when he heard Jan's surname. Jan internally rolled his eyes and followed Mr. Malfoy in his office.

"So, you say he got kidnapped? And you don't sent someone to get him back? What kint of pussy Aurors do you Brits have, that they don't search for a criminal that took patient from a hospital!?"  
Malfoy laughed coldly.  
This guy pissed him off.  
"Weasley is a ticking magical time bomb. He accidentally let our head nurse go up in flames and mentally scarred one of our healers by transfiguring his private parts into a spider. He has no control over is magic."  
Malfoy sat on the edge of his desk and looked at him with a thin grin.  
"There is only one person that would be willing and capable to bother getting trough our security system and to take him away and this man is of course an Auror."  
The healer smiled slyly.  
"he probably didn't trust me and wants to take care of Weasley himself. They were always close. It's good for me though... now I don't have to fear he brings my staff in danger."


	25. Ron

When Ron woke up the next time it was in the middle of the night.  
Everywhere was water. It filled his mouth and nose.  
Murky lake water.  
Ron panicked. Desperately looked around, then he saw Harry.  
Still sleeping, unconscious or...NO! He wouldn't think about _that_.  
As fast as he could he tried to get beside him and roughly slung his arm around his chest. Harry was heavy and it was difficult to swim upwards to the suface.  
The upper part room that was not filled with water was barely high enough poke the head out of the water. Ron held his friend stead with one arm and slapped him on the cheeks to wake him up.  
He didn't react.  
Harry wasn't breathing.  
"Bloody hell! Mate, don't do this to me." muttered Ron checking for a pulse, luckily at least that still worked.  
He didn't know how he could react so calm, even though he was screaming in fear internally.  
He searched for Harry's wand poked it out of the water and muttered a " _Finite Incantatem_!" since that was an spell-ending spell, as Harry and had mentioned yesterday during the swamp accident.  
To their luck, it worked.  
With an ugly _"thump"_ they landed on the wet, algae covered floor when the lake water disappeared. Ron was able to protect Harry's head from the fall, but falling down from the ceiling and having the weight of a grown man land on him wasn't exactly nice.  
With a groan he pushed the body off of him, turning his friend on his back, checking for the pulse again. Still there. At least something to work with.  
Ron threw away the wand.  
As long as he was still causing chaos with his magic he really shouldn't point a wand at Harry even though that would probably the fastest way to help him.

He had to be fast.  
In the courage of desperation he roughly gripped the unconscious man's head and pulled it backwards to give the air ideal possibility to flow down on the lungs and he sucked in his breath and then settled his mouth on Harry, blowing the air in.  
this wasn't one of the romance movies that Henry was forced to watch with Pauline.  
There was nothing romantic about ventilating Harry.  
Just the need to act quick and precise, adrenaline and fear burning through his veins.  
It felt like an eternity of blowing air in Harry's lungs and controlling the pulse until finally he felt the chest raise and fall. Breath prickled against his face and lips, Harry started to breath on his own again.  
Ron wasn't sure if he was allowed to be relieved yet.  
Tears burned behind his eyes, still cradling Harry's head in his arms.  
"Come on, Harry!" His voice sounded like he hadn't used it for months. Coarse, thin and scared.  
"Wake up!" he whimpered, lowering his head and nudged his forehead against the Harry's temple.  
He tried to suppress the new float of memories.  
Harry pulling him out of the lake, Percy being worried and running towards them not caring about getting his cloths wet and looking utterly ridiculous.  
 _'The thing Harry Potter will miss the most.'_  
Arms closed around him his neck and Ron felt a hand patting him on the back.  
"'m fine, Ron." muttered Harry's very close to his ear.  
"Don't...scare me like that." Ron rasped and pressed Harry's head against his chest.  
He did it.  
Harry was back.

Harry seemed to be very used to near-death situations, since he just sat up, searched for his wand and mumbled a cleaning spell to bring the room back to normal.  
He was creepily okay with this dying business.  
"In case you didn't notice." muttered Ron observing how relaxed his host was, while he was fixing them a tea.  
"You almost _died_ ."  
Harry didn't bother to turn around.  
His hair was still wet with lake water and clinging to his nape.  
Human life was so fragile.  
"You'd almost died _because of me_." he whispered, stepping behind him and leaning his forehead against the back of Harry's head.  
He felt Harry shiver and heard the clinking of a teaspoon falling into a mug.  
"I..." his friend leaned backwards against Ron's chest.  
Suddenly the room seemed to be a lot warmer.  
"I've almost died because of a lot more stupid reasons." Harry's voice is loaded with emotions, they both are not willing to acknowledge.  
"I don't care, if it is for you, Ron."

Ron knew this kind of atmosphere.  
He greeted the feeling of belonging, of trust, of loyalty like an old friend.  
He didn't know where he took this courage from.  
This was Harry after all. They were the closest...but they weren't like _that_.  
He'd never allowed himself to even think about this.  
This was _Harry_ after all.  
slightly he turned his head, nuzzled the damp, black hair. Harry trembled against him when he burrowed the nose in the crook of his neck but he didn't object.  
His arms closed around Harry's middle and it seemed to him almost like Harry pressed himself slightly against him.  
Ron breathed in the scent of lake water and the slightly salty Harry-smell.  
When his tongue darted out to taste the skin, Harry moaned quietly.

Ron was still amazed that Harry didn't push him away yet.  
He was overstepping boundaries here, that where there for a reason.  
They were friends, not...  
Ron felt a bit guilty to exploit the passiveness of his friend, since in his mind, while Harry could be clingy, their relationship had always been platonic.  
Harry was a weird bloke. Sometimes it seemed like he didn't really know how to decode social behaviour.  
Ron wasn't sure if Harry knew what to do with a friend and what not.  
Tentatively he sucked on Harry's neck, nibbled at the sensitive skin above the veins.  
"Ron..." breathed his best friend and he felt Harry lower body push against his groin.  
He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hopelessly excited.  
" _mate..._." he almost growled needy against the shoulder in front of him, his hand clasping to Harry's hips and pressed them against himself, felt Harry jeans-clad buttocks part a little bit and he desperately pushed his still covered front side between them.  
He barely noticed that Harry was standing on the balls of his feet to match his height.  
There was no conscious thoughts just the astonishment about all this faith Harry had into him.

He came shortly after. His pants sticky and uncomfortable. Extremely tired and euphoric at the same time he looked down on Harry whose upper body was resting on the kitchen counter.  
He was breathing heavily and there was a wet spot on his jeans, right between his legs. His faded T-shirt was lifted a bit, giving free view on his sinewy back, covered in bigger and smaller, older and newer scars.  
Ron caressed it fondly, following the red lines of the scarred tissue with his fingers, before making a step back. It was like he just woke up from a very weird dream.  
His mouth opened to apologise, but the words got lost on the way.  
The early morning sun glistered on his sweat-covered skin when Harry pushed himself off the counter and turned around to look at him.  
His expression was as helpless as Ron felt.

* * *

this was a difficult chapter. there's a lot of angsty feels and suppressed emotions here.  
i had to adjust the rating because of this chapter too. "ORZ  
did you notice that Ron doesn't refer to himself as "Henry" anymore? He bit by bit settles in the his identity as "Ron Weasley" again.

I don't often write scenes like that, so please tell me what you think about it.


	26. Molly II

Molly Weasley was an outsider in her Family.  
Both her parents were overachieve and her younger sister just was in her first year and she had already the best results in the whole year.  
Molly wasn't like that and Ted Lupin, the prefect had spend more than one evening assuring the girl that it was okay to be second best.  
You couldn't be best in everything, so he said and his hair changed form a bright blue to a compassionate peach-orange.  
It still felt bad for her, to be so different form the rest of her family.  
Whatever the other family member did and were, she weren't.  
Mum, Dad and Lucy all had darker, curly hair. Dad and Lucy were redheads, Mum had brown hair.  
Molly didn't fit in with her boring straight, white hair.  
She stared unhappy in the bathroom mirror.  
While all other members in her family had blue eyes, her eyes were red and while Dad had very light skin, it wasn't by far the pink-white as Molly's.  
They were all beautiful...generally all of Mum's and Dad's siblings were ridiculously beautiful...well except for Uncle Bill having big scars in his face, Uncle Charlie having a lot of burning scars from dragons and Uncle George was missing an ear.  
Molly looked at herself in the mirror and saw a thirteen years old albino girl, with a bit too much weight and glasses as thick as Uncle Harry's.  
There was nothing beautiful about Molly.  
She was just mediocre in everything she is and does.  
She put on her jeans and shirt and sighed for a last time. Tomorrow they'd go back to Hogwarts and Molly was a bit happy about it.  
She loved her family, but she felt so bad for not living up to her parents expectations that being with them was always stressful.  
At school she was just one of five Hufflepuff in her year and she had her cousin Dominique and her Ted Lupin to help her when she had problems.  
It was a luck that she didn't look much like Weasley, because people would expect big things of her if she'd look like her dad's family.  
The Weasleys are a family of war heroes which makes them famous even though they're not rich.  
Not only that but, whatever her uncles do, they're exceptionally good in it.  
Molly wasn't good at anything that was worth mentioning.  
She was also not bad.  
She was just normal.

When she entered the kitchen there was a man in Dad's age sitting at the table.  
He's white-blond and is chatting in a language that Molly doesn't understand, Mum answers fluently and looked very annoyed. It sounds a bit like the medieval texts Molly has found in the library.  
Molly likes reading about the past...sometimes she thinks, that it was easier for the people at the time when the Hogwarts founders were alive.  
Mum put cups, sugar and milk on the table and the man took one of the cups helping himself with tea and milk. He put way too much sugar in his tea.  
"Morning, Mum." Molly mumbled and sat down at the table, changing the spoon and her cup from the left side of her plate to the right wordlessly.  
It's not like Mum wanted her to feel like she didn't fit into the household, by putting everything on the wrong side...it just happened.  
"Morning, sweetie." Mum said evenly. She ruffled her daughter's freshly showered hair and smiled at her while pouring tea in both if their cups.  
"This is Jan, he went to school with me and it seemed like he became friends with Uncle Ron." Mum explained and smiled.

Some may say Mum was a bit boring too, with her level-headed personality, her office job her her unspectacular marriage to Dad.  
But Mum was Molly's personal hero. Not only that she was good-looking in her own way, with her pale skin, She was just the coolest person she knew.  
She never started screaming or crying, even of the situation was really bad. She always knew what to say and what to do.  
Molly also liked Mum's job. She probably Grandpa Arthur's favourite daughter-in-law since she worked in the department for Muggle relations. Mum moved as smoothly through Muggle London as she was acting in the wizard society.  
Mum had the talent to fit in everywhere.  
Like a secret agent in one of these Muggle movies, she liked watching with mum or like rice...by itself it may look boring, but you fits with almost every dish and never seems out of place.  
Mum was the coolest.

"How olt are you, Molly?" the man had a foreign accent.  
Molly internally cursed her pale shin, when she felt the familiar redness colour her face under the inquisitive stare of Jan.  
"Im...thirteen." she said silently looking down on his hands to avoid looking into his eyes.  
He twirled his wand in his left hand absent-mindedly.  
Even he was more normal than Molly in this household.  
"Aww~ Audrey! You shoult have sent her to Rungholt! Her and my daughta Pauline woult have been in the same year!" the man pouted.  
"Dey'd totally be the bestest friends!"  
Mum snorted and took a sip of her tea.  
"If you daughter takes after you, I'm sure I don't want her to have too much contact with Molly." giggled Mum.  
Mum _giggled_! Molly had never heard her Mum make this kind of sound.  
"Vatt do you mean by datt?" complained the man but there was a big grin on his face and his pale blue glittered in amusement.  
" _MY_ daughter is adorable while yours probably an annoying brat. " grinned Mum broadly and Molly felt herself getting even more red.  
"Mum!" she complained but was cut off by Jan, proclaiming that his daughter was "de most adorable daughta ever".

"That's obviously wrong, because my daughters are the cutest." came a quiet voice from behind them and Molly turned around, looking in her father's face.  
"Oh!" made Molly old school friend and pointed rudely at Dad.  
"the left-handet brodda."  
Dad stepped behind Molly putting a hand on her shoulder and, a thin-lipped smile on his face.  
"Is that the only quality I've got?"

It turned out that Jan had tried to visit Uncle Ron at the hospital and they told him that he'd been kidnapped.  
Since he didn't know how to contact Uncle Ron's family, he'd gone to the only person he knew beside his father. Mum.  
Both had been very surprised finding out that Jan's close friend Henry Dupont and Audrey's brother-in-law were the same person.  
Jan because agitated when talking about Uncle Ron, who he called "Henry". He was obviously worried.  
Dad seemed relax, though. It was always a good idea to look at Dad when it came to getting worried. Dad was a worrywart, so when he was okay with something it was very likely everything would turn out fine.  
"He's with Harry, so they'll survive." Dad shrugged, buttering his toast.  
"Who's dat _Harry_ anyvay? Mr. Malfoy sait it was him as well." there was jealousy in his voice.  
"Ron's best friend since school. They've done a lot of stuff together, that I don't even want to think about. He probably knows him better than his own wife... or even Mum." Dad says around his toast.  
"perhaps we should go visit George. He's better at explaining what happened to Ron back then and I think since you've lived years together you've got a right know what's going on."


	27. Pauline

Pauline looked out of the bull's eye in the murky water of the Channel.  
She heard very students talking English and French, most Wizards in Britain and France sent their children to Hogwarts and Beauxbatons She heard some Luxembourgian and Flemish, but bit by bit the students switched to the convenience of the school-taught language.  
Sassisch, was part of the curriculum since the 14th century to accommodate with the growing trading network of the cities of the Hanseatic League. Since Rungholdt was a school that always had been an international school and there was the local magical communities in the countries were often too tiny and far apart to fill an own school with just one nationality.  
Sassisch had been the obvious choice, back at the time when the school was founded,with it being the lingua franca of the Muggle merchants in the area of the North and Baltic Sea an since the small communities had close contact with the Muggles and often worked for the trading companies.  
The steady rumbling of the submarine's engine made her tired.  
Her Father had to wake her early so they wouldn't be too late when the Submarine picked her up from the beach.  
She pulled the knees to her chest and leaned her head on them.  
Pauline hated leaving Papa alone.  
Especially right now, where everything seemed to change.

For a really long time, she thought her life was pretty safe and stable.  
She had a mother that couldn't take care of her and who would scream like a banshee when she saw her, which was not easy, but she managed, since she had Papa.  
Papa always had taken good care for her and henry, their neighbour was there to fill the gaps and smooth out the edges with everything Papa couldn't do.  
She'd always thought they'd stay like this until Papa and Henry were Grandpas and she and Fred had kids of their own.  
That her little family could be broken so easily was a shock for her and she felt her little safe world threatened by people taking away the boy that was like a little brother for her, by a the fact that Henry was actually been married in England and the most by a girl that was so obvious Henry's daughter that she wanted to hit her with a Quidditch bat.  
 _She_ was the little girl that henry carried in his back after a long day at the beach.  
 _She_ was his little princess, with whom he played "tea party" in the pub kitchen and begrudgingly watched Barbie movies.  
The thought of another girl being special for Henry now, just because she was his biological daughter and Pauline wasn't, made her angry.

The submarine stopped from time to time at ports or just random beaches, students on the way Belgium, the Netherlands and Germany entered, bit by bit it got really crowded.  
A few people from her year and floor sat down around her and distracted her from pondering too much.  
Her mood brightened and she started laughing and talking about their Christmas presents. One of her classmates had brought a miniture quidditch field with them and they played table-quidditch for the next hours until they reached their school in the underwater village of Rungholdt.

Rungholdt was a beehive of subterranean caves under the sea ground.  
It basically consisted out of mud that was magically formed into caverns, which were the home for little homely stone houses and shops.  
At the outskirts of the village, next to a Quidditch and a Stichstock field, the School of Runghold throned on a small, muddy hill in the biggest of the caves.  
Pauline smiled happily when the submarine reached the tunnel that lead under ground and finally the old Brick Gothic style buildings could be seen from the bull's eye.  
It was like coming home, she thought, when the submarine stopped and the students left the ship to climb the hill.  
Except for the chattering of the students, it was quiet.  
No birds, no flowers, just mud and the magically enchanted light very far above them at the ceiling of the cavern.  
Pauline shouldered her duffel bag and made her way to the third floor, where her group was living.  
She was so tired that Pauline instantly fell asleep in her hammock, ignoring her room mates bickering and laughing around her.

It was already evening when she woke up.  
She wrote a short letter for her father, to tell him that she was okay and a longer letter for henry, to make sure he didn't forget her.  
Still in her pyjamas she climbed the small staircase to the seagull tower, that was above the water surface.  
Seagulls were the typical post birds in this area, there were a few owls, but they weren't fit to fly long distances above water and the salty rough climate was difficult for them.  
Pauline picked to of the school seagulls and watched them glide through the dark, stormy air, than they were gone.  
The girl shivered.  
The wind was dragging at her silvery blond hair and her cloths.  
She missed her family, but it was nice to be back at school.

* * *

Rungholdt was one of the reasons I wanted to write this story.  
we've got Durmstrang, which has a Germanic inspired name ( the literal epoche "Sturm und Drang") and with Grindelwald Durmstrang had a student who probably has a germanic language background, but the school seemed to be more Eastern European to me.  
I thought that there must be either smaller local schools in other countries or there must be less famous international schools.  
Rungholdt is one of two sister schools (the second one is Wineta in the baltic sea somewhere between the coasts of Poland and Germany) that are build under water to hide them from the Muggles. Both, Audrey and Jan were students at Rungholdt, which explained why Audrey was never mentioned in the Harry Potter books, eventhough she's probably the age that she would have been a student, while Harry was there.  
the students are organised by rooms, that are called "floor". They're basically the equivalent to houses, but there's no sorting hat or different personality traits bound to them. Students of all eight years sleep in hammocks in the same room. There's one for girls and one for boys on each floor, as well as a common room and study.


	28. Harry 4

It was creepy how easy it was to wordlessly come to the consent to not talk about their little outburst this morning. Ron had taken a shower and Harry had charmed his cloths clean in the mean time.  
They had breakfast and Ron took his potion then Ron fell asleep on the sofa.  
Harry waited until he was sure that his best friend was sleeping and safe, then he also took a shower.  
He was happy to get out of his sticky pants. He hadn't had this kind of accidents since he was teenager and _accidentally_ watched Ron shower after Quidditch practise.  
Back then he hadn't really thought about it and just put it off to puberty. He really had to worry about other things back then, with one of the more dangerous dark wizards around trying to kill him...  
That and he never even allowed himself to dream that Ron would allow him to act on it.  
Ron always seemed to be so painfully heterosexual, with his swooning over Fleur, all the public kisses with Lavender and his long-time crush and then marriage with Hermione.  
Harry was sure that Ron also had at least a girlfriend in France.  
How did it end up like this?

Harry stepped under the shower and the warm water rinsed away the smell of sex, sweat and lake water.  
He tried to will away the thoughts of Ron's fast breath against his shoulder and neck, his fingers desperately digging in in his hips and Ron's body, hot and demanding against his back.  
Harry's blood shot to his head when he thought how good it felt to be claimed, to be needed.  
The first unhappy years of his childhood had ingrained the feeling of being unwanted so much in him that it was a part of Harry's personality and it was still difficult for him to believe that someone actually wanted to be close to him.  
Ron was the one that welcomed him into the wizard world.  
The first to be his friend, the first to give him the feeling that he was okay the way he was, that he was worth it to be protected and to have Ron fight beside him.  
Feeling wanted by Ron was what had sent him off the edge, with the other man rubbing against him.  
Harry felt heat buzzing in his groin, just thinking about it.  
He looked down his body in frustration. Now was not the time to get excited. Especially not with Ron in the neighbouring room.  
There were finger shaped bruises on both sides of his hips, Harry touched them tentatively. They hurt a bit, but not badly.  
Ron must have held him very firmly to leave this kind of bruises...

When he left the bathroom Ron was still asleep, which was good since Harry had forgotten his clean cloths.  
Hastily he pulled a clean pair of pants, jeans and a shirt out of the drawer and put them on then he padded on bare feet to the sofa leaning over his best friend's sleeping form.  
Ron's sleep was a lot calmer than yesterday and his expression was peaceful and relaxed.  
Harry withstood the urge to brush the unruly curls out of his face and sat down beside him, starting to do some paper work.  
Yes, perhaps he was sitting a bit too close and enjoying the warmth radiating from Ron a bit too much, but he'd be a good friend. He'd stick to their unspoken agreement to be quiet about the events this early morning.  
Ron had always been reacted with physical closeness when Harry had been put in danger.  
Not to this extreme of course, but hugs, fingers digging in his upper arms to keep him close or just leaning against his shoulder weren't out of character for Ron.  
As if he needed to reassure himself that Harry was still there, alive and safe.  
It wasn't that weird, now that Harry thought about it, that Ron would get physical after having to reanimate him.  
This was a one-time occurrence because of extraordinary circumstances. There was nothing to get too worked up about, just file it as a nice memory and get over it, Harry tried to tell himself, giving up to work on the papers in front of him after he read the same sentence for the fifteenth time.  
There was no chance he'd any work done like! He carefully threw the documents on the floor beside the couch.  
Ron muttered, curling up a little in his sleep. Harry thought he'd heard him say Hermione's name.

Harry slid down the back of the sofa until he was lying beside Ron. He turned on his side and looked at the sleeping face.  
He shouldn't do this, but he had dome so much in the last days, that wouldn't fit their old relationship as best mates, that he could easily convince himself that just a bit more wouldn't be too bad.  
His mouth was dry, when he gently caressed the relaxed face, the inviting lips, the neck...Ron looked so defenceless.  
This was bad.  
Carefully to not wake Ron he crawled closer. Just a little bit...  
His nose rested a few millimetres above the collarbone. He blissfully sucked in the smell of soap and Ron's individual smell.  
The smell of unconditional loyalty.  
"Stop it, Fred..." grumbled Ron and then mumbled about being tired and having to work at night. Harry's eyes shot up to his face.  
He was still asleep.  
Harry smiled fondly and snaked a hand under the rim of Ron's pyjama top, just enough to feel the smooth skin under his thumb.  
Muscles relaxed and warm from sleep.  
Ron was here and the almost ten years that they'd spent without being close to each other, didn't matter, because the the way he saw Ron, as his loyal friend he could rely on, wouldn't change in hundred years.  
"Stop moving around! I'm trying to sleep!" Ron's hand found his and pulled it away from his body and then he startled.  
The sudden stiffness made it pretty clear that Ron had woken up.  
"What are you doing Harry..." muttered Ron and he felt hands gripping his upper arms and trying to push him away.

If there was one big fault Harry had, it was that he was stupidly stubborn.  
He was so stubborn enough to just refuse to die for years.  
Not letting go of Ron when he obviously wanted it, was probably a manifestation of how stupidly stubborn Harry could be.  
He couldn't go back, that he was sure now.  
It was easy before, because Ron never showed any signs that he'd want this kind of closeness.  
"le' me go, Harry."  
Harry shook his head, encircling Ron hips with his arms with all his might.  
They wrestled, both not wanting to give up.  
"I won't!" hissed Harry trying to get the upper hand, while Ron started punching him an the shoulder and arms.  
"You'll just act as if nothing happened!"  
Ron was heavier and taller, but he didn't have the combat experience that Harry had in the last decade.  
Finally Harry managed to get a hold of Ron's and keep him stomach down in an arm lock.  
Ron was so furious that he wasn't even able to produce full sentences, spitting curses in both French and English and fruitlessly struggling against Harry's grip.  
"Give it up, Ron! It won't work. You're out of training!" wheezed Harry and put as much weight as possible on the bucking body.  
"Bloody Hell! What is wrong with you, _Potter_?!" Harry flinched. Ron only called him by his surname when he was either extremely angry or otherwise really agitated.  
"Ron! Listen! I won't do anything...but listen to me!" Harry was almost begging.  
He didn't want to fight, he just wanted to make sure that they talked about what happened... he knew himself and he knew Ron and he knew the longer they'd wait, the more difficult it would be to talk about this. They were both pants at discussing feelings.  
"I...we can't just ignore this... _I_ can't...look you're _my best friend_..." he was stammering and making a total tit out of himself, but at least Ron stopped struggling.  
"...I missed you so much, that I had a problem _functioning as a human being_! I'm a shitty dad, I was such a shitty husband, I don't blame Ginny for finally having enough and throw me out and I try to avoid people at work...all these things that were so bloody easy with you by my side are a constant fight with everyone else. I need you with me. I don't care _how_ ..." his voice broke.  
It was a lie.  
He did care. A lot.  
He wanted to be the most important. Wanted Ron to need him as much as he needed him, but he'd accept anything, if Ron would just be _there_.  
"...just stay with me." he whispered coarsely leaning his forehead against Ron's back.  
For a moment there was nothing to hear but their breath and the ticking of the clock.  
"let me go, Harry." muttered Ron then and Harry shook his head, keeping the Arms twisted and secure on Ron's back.  
"Harry... _please_..."

A moment later Harry sprung back with a cry of pain.  
Looking down on his hands that were now covered with burned flesh and blisters.  
Ron stared at him. He was breathing heavily and trembled, obviously shocked about the results of his newest magical outburst.  
"Harry..." Ron's voices sounded weak and scared, while Harry searched for ointment against burnings in the medicine chest.  
"Harry, I want you to go." Harry stopped and for a moment he didn't even feel the pain from his burned hands.  
"Leave me alone here. This room is safe and I won't bring anyone in danger. Go spend time with you children. Spend some time with Fre...James."Ron pleaded.  
Harry found the salve and came back to the sofa.  
When he sit down next him, Ron retreat to the other end of the room, leaning against the door frame.  
Harry bit his lips. This hurt.  
"Can't you understand what I told you?!" Harry whispered, smearing the ointment on his palms and watching the wounds close and fade.  
"I want to be with you."  
Ron's slid down the door frame sitting down on the floor, he looked like short before passing out from magical exhaustion again. All this uncontrolled outburst were straining for the body and the magic level.  
"You're not save here, Harry. I almost _killed_ you this morning and I hurt you just now." Ron head hung low, hiding his face and making it impossible for Harry to read his expression.  
"I don't want to hurt you, Harry!"  
Harry knelt in front of his best friend grabbing his hair roughly and pulling the face up, so that he could see in his pained eyes.  
"Ron. I don't care if it hurts me or even kills me! I need you with me." he grumbled, voice thick with emotions.  
"No, Harry. I...don't...! Please just for the next two or three days. Then you can check on me again, if you want." Ron didn't complain that Harry pulled at his hair. Harry still let go, he felt a bit bad for being so forceful.  
"I need time to recover and it seems to me like these...event...they happen either when I have some dream, I get startled or if I feel an intense emotion...no matter if it's good or bad. Being with people makes the chance even bigger, that I end up causing chaos around me."  
Ron leaned against his shoulder.  
"I would never be able to forgive myself, if you'd be permanently damaged because of me, mate."  
Harry did understand and he'd probably wanted the same if it were the other way around, but leaving Ron when he was this unstable was _scary_.  
"I...let me at least see you in the evenings." He muttered in Ron's shoulder and after a moment of thinking, he felt Ron nodded.  
"...And I'll set up an alarm, so that when you're in danger, I can come and help."  
Ron pushed him away and this time he didn't resist.  
There was a shaky smile on his lips Harry mirrored it with a broad grin.  
"let me keep my wand, Harry. It makes me feel saver."


	29. Hugo

Mum was angry.  
Hugo ducked nervously behind Teddy's broad back and cautiously peeked towards his mother.  
"You want to tell me, that you're kidnapping a mentally and magically unstable man and then you go and leave him alone?!"  
It was like watching a natural disaster. Once mum was in this state of anger, nobody could stop her.  
"I've seen him! He's a wreck! He can't be left alone like that!"  
Uncle Harry was angry too.  
Hugo flinched back and stared at him with wide eyes, when he hid the kitchen table with his palm.  
"Hermione! I know!"  
His eyes a wild and much darker than the usual bright green.  
"You _know_ I wanted to stay with him!" Uncle Harry yelled and when he stepped towards Mom, Hugo was scared he'd hurt her.  
"Then why are you not with him?! Or at least let the family in on where he is so that we can _help_!" Mum wasn't scared at all. She stomped towards Uncle Harry and and shook him by the shoulders.  
"Stop acting as you're the only one who missed him and feels responsible for his well-being!" she boxed against his chest.  
Mum's crying.  
Hugo has never seen his Mum crying.  
"I love him! I wouldn't have _married_ him if I didn't love him! Let me help!"  
Ted pushed Hugo out of the kitchen, when he noticed the boy crying behind him.  
He pulled him in his arms and and rubbed his back comforting until the tears stopped.  
"Do you think my Mum and Dad will break up?"  
Ted's hair changed to a murky brown-green and he smiled helplessly.  
"Don't your Dad and your Mum your love each other?"  
Hugo let his head hang low "Yes... but Mum said she loves Rose's father too...and they were married, like Mum and Dad...what if Mum likes him more than Dad..."  
Ted sighed his hairs bloomed in all colours of the rainbow for a moment before settling for bright blue and he gave Hugo a wordless hug.

"Children! Put your cloths on! We're visiting Grandma Molly in 10 minutes!" yelled Mum from the kitchen.  
When Hugo and Ted entered the room, Dad, Mum, Rose and Uncle Harry were already standing in front of the fireplace.  
Mum's eyes were still red and puffy Hugo went to hug her and she took him on her arms before stepping on the fire and flooing to the Burrow.

The Burrow was filled with people.  
It was the last afternoon before the big children when back to Hogwarts, so everyone gathered to sped some time together.  
Uncle Fred was just showing a new prototype to Grandpa Arthur (Hugo thought it was really cool to have three sets of grandparents) when Mum stepped out of the fireplace and put him down on the carpet and pulled him out of the way so that the Ted who just stumbled out of the fire, wouldn't trip over him.  
When Uncle Harry arrived there was a lot of fuss and Hugo noticed one person he didn't know.  
The man had white blond hair, like Auntie Fleur and Victoire, and bright blue eyes that sparkled angrily at Uncle Harry.  
Before that man could say anything there was a horde of red-haired Uncles rushing towards Uncle Harry.  
They were worried about Rose's father.  
While the man seemed like an intruder in his family, the Weasleys saw their little brother and son in him and where happy to have him back and worried about him being not with them.  
Was Mum thinking the same?  
Did she prefer being with him over being with Dad?


	30. Victoire

If there was one thing that Victoire hated about being Weasley,our family doesn't understand the concept of privacy.  
They meddle in everything you do or think and, what was even more annoying, they were shamelessly okay when their children, siblings or parents heard them getting intimate with their partner.  
The positive thing was that she was allowed to share a room with her boyfriend Teddy. Her parents were cool about her being in a happy relationship. It probably also had to do with Ted being an unofficial part of the Weasley family since he was a baby.  
Dad and Mum knew that he was a good person.  
The negative thing was that they could hear Aunt Ginny from the neighbouring room.  
Victoire was still pretty shocked how her cool Aunt had been so easily charmed by this weird guy with the foreign accent.  
Victoire had seen them chat in the evening and Jan showing her how to fix drinks, that were taste tested and rated by Dad, Uncle George and Uncle Charlie.  
Aunt Ginny probably also had a bit more than she should have. She laughed a lot, told jokes and seemed more like a teenager girl, than a woman in her thirties with three kids.  
Mum made Audrey and Ted go upstairs, where the rest of the children was already asleep and the last thing she'd seen was Auntie Hermione dosing on the couch, a big book on her stomach and leaning against her husband's chest who was busy talking with Uncle Harry about Quidditch.

There had been quite the chaos earlier in the evening.  
They were all worried about Uncle Ron and Uncle George got in a fight with Uncle Harry, because he didn't want to tell him were he hid them.  
Then Uncle Harry got angry, because he was Uncle George bringing that up even though he was the reason Ron was in this state.  
They'd have probably started hitting each other, but Dad stopped it.  
Dad was always great at calming down fights.  
By forcefully hugging things out.  
He just had both of them in a headlock-like one-armed hug until they stopped struggling.  
Grandma laughed about Dad's formidable fight-stopping skills...Uncle Harry had a really red face.  
He wasn't the type of person who hugged people a lot...or got hugged..especially not other men.

Hearing your Aunt having sex with someone that was basically a stranger while her ex-husband and her children were just a few rooms away from it was really not what she wanted to wake up to.  
She looked over to Ted's bed at the other side of the wall.  
He was still a sleep. His hair shimmering in a relaxed shade of dark blond.  
Victoire smiled but escaped to the kitchen, when she heard her Aunt moan again.  
This was so embarrassing!  
The kitchen clock showed shortly after four and down here it was blissfully quiet.  
Just Uncle Harry sitting tiredly on one of the long shabby kitchen chairs, staring wearily in a mug of tea.  
"Morning, Victoire..." he muttered glumly without looking at her.  
She was sure he hadn't slept one second this night.  
"Want to have something from my tea?"  
She nodded and and got a mug from the cupboard.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked pushing the little milk jug closer to her, still not lifting his head.  
She nodded while pouring some milk in her tea. She added sugar and hesitated to answer.  
"Aunt Ginny is loud." she muttered and she's sure her face is bright red.  
She's a teenager.  
She didn't want to hear her own Aunt have sex.  
He nodded wordlessly and took a sip of his tea.  
"Does it hurt, Uncle Harry?" Victoire's voice sounds weird in the empty kitchen. Usually the kitchen is the loudest place in the whole house.  
"I...what do you mean?"  
He looked up first time. His eyes were honest and there was no sarcasm in them.  
"Well...that Aunt Ginny is having sex with that guy."  
Uncle Harry laughed his voice is cracking from tiredness and worries.  
"A bit. But not that much. We are not married anymore and neither of us wants to have that kind of relationship anymore." he smiled warmly.  
"I love her and I want her to be happy...I'm a bit worried, but she's free to do what ever makes her happy. It's not that bad. You don't have to feel sorry for me."  
Victoire nodded slowly. She wasn't sure if she should believe him.  
"I still don't like that guy though. I'd prefer it if she had a boyfriend instead of doing stuff like that with random guy, she just met."  
Victoire hummed in agreement and they drank their tea in silence for a few minutes.  
"I wish they were more quiet." she grumbled.

It was shortly after six in the morning when Grandma and Aunt Audrey entered the kitchen.  
Grandma looked like she hadn't slept much.  
She probably was also worried.  
"Relax, Molly." Aunt Audrey smiled, helping her set up the table.  
"I went to school with that idiot. He may be stupid, but he's a good guy and Ginny is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions."  
Uncle Harry snorted. He got on his feet to help too.  
"they were drunk that I don't trust them making adult decisions." he laughed bitter.  
Audrey smirked "You sure, you aren't just jealous."  
Uncle Harry shrugged.


	31. Ron 2

It had been two weeks since Ron had booted Harry out of the safehouse.  
The first days had been rocky, since there were still random outburst but now he didn't have any incidents in days and he was bored.  
Ron wasn't used to be alone.  
There had always been either family, friends or the boy around him.  
Harry came to the apartment in the evenings, but it wasn't enough to make Ron feel less isolated, less like a prisoner.  
He hated this.  
Harry told him what happened outside, but his family, his friends and he was sure that his little boy, Fred, was also missing him.  
The room seemed to get smaller every minute and there was nothing to do.  
His magical abilities were almost back to normal and he felt quite confident that he could control it by now, though he was a bit worried that he could be wrong and hurt someone.  
Ron had tried to keep himself occupied.  
He'd read the old Quidditch magazines so often that he knew the articles off by the heart.  
He made a chess game out of paper snippets and played against himself, but it just wasn't the same as playing against someone else.  
He also had cooked, making elaborate multi-course dinner and he was so relieved when Harry came to vcheck on him early enough so they could eat together. Eating alone wasn't fun.  
Ron rolled from the stomach on the back and sighed in frustration.  
He scratched his stomach and stared at the ceiling, which still had a few burn marks from last week.  
This was torture.

Harry had started to work again.  
Ron had a major freak-out yesterday, when he stumbled in with a big stab wound in his arm.  
Knowing that his best friend was alone out there risking his life while he was locked up and not able to help, scared him.  
He was supposed to be there with Harry and keep him from being a reckless idiot.  
Ron felt a bit sorry for yelling at Harry, since it was his job after all... but he still thought that he was a prat for making him worry like that, for making him feel so useless.  
He'd treated Harry's arm with some potion with a very complicated name and they watched it heal while they ate bruscetta with tomato.  
Harry liked simple food. It made him feel dumb when he didn't know how to eat something, so Ron made hotpot recipes and all kind of noodles and pub food.  
It was the quality of the cooking and the ingredients, that made his food good.  
Seeing Harry's eyes light up when looking over his shoulder to see what was for dinner that evening was the only really fun thing he had these days.  
He was glad to see when people liked his food in generally, but seeing Harry being ridiculously happy about spaghetti or boeuf bourguignion was something he never would get tired of.  
Seeing Harry happy was one of the best things that could happen and being the cause for it was even better.  
The poor bloke had enough sadness and pain for several lives, he deserved being happy.  
Ron forbid himself to think that it was kind of _sexy_ seeing Harry relaxed and comfortable in his skin with a broad grin on his face and slightly red cheeks from the wine.  
He sighed again, wiggled closer to the edge of the enhanced couch, let his head hang downward and did _not_ think of his best mate being way too close,way too giddy and smelling way to good to be just that...the best mate.  
All this "feeling _sudden_ attraction to Harry"-shite was bad for his heart, so much was sure.  
This wasn't _right_.  
Not because because they were both guys, that was something Ron was pretty comfortable with for some time now.  
They were _Friends_ though.  
Friends didn't think about each other _like that_.  
They just...this felt so wrong and he felt so guilty.  
He was just about to let out a really frustrated moan, when the door opening stopped him midway.

Harry starred down on him for a moment, barely blinking and obviously trying to process how dumb Ron looked, head upside down and mouth standing open.  
"What are you doing there?" Harry asked not hiding the amusement in his voice. He closed the door and kneel down before the couch, his black Auror robes pouring on the floor around his knees.  
"I'm bored, Harry. I've been locked up for over two weeks and I'm going mental in here." Ron muttered, trying to not think about Harry being close enough for him to grab him by the collar.  
"Weasleys are social animals. We need people around to be happy." he tried to to joke, but felt like he was failing miserably.  
Harry licked his lips nervously. It was difficult not to stare on Harry's mouth while speaking.  
Ron sat up turning his back to Harry by doing so.  
"I want to work, I want to look after Fre...Jamie and try to build up a relationship with my daughter. I know I need to be patient. I know, but..." He rubbed eyes.  
"...but your really bad at being patient." mumbled Harry behind him and he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
Ron nodded, he noticed how the cushions of the couch went bit down by the weight of Harry sitting behind him.  
"may be, we can try going to St. Mungos tomorrow morning and ask them." Harry muttered after a while, his thumb slightly massaging Ron's shoulder muscles.  
"what if they lock you up in the hospital again."

With that their conversation was over and Ron stood up take the casserole out of the oven. He had been finished cooking three hours ago, but Harry had been late, so he had used a warming charm to keep the food at the right temperature.  
He brought it to the coffee table, which was the only one in in the apartment.  
It was now that he noticed that there was something not okay with Harry. His best friend had removed his auror robes, he was slightly hunched over and his eyes weren't as shiny as he thought when he'd planned the meal.  
"Are you okay, mate?" he asked forcing himself to sound casually while he set up the table.  
Harry shrugged muttering something about having a harsh day at work.  
Ron sighed and sat down beside him on the edge of the sofa, he hesitated shortly then he laid an arm around his shoulder.  
Harry melted in his side.  
This was bad.  
This was not how friends acted.  
Ron had difficulties to think about anything but how nice the proximity felt, until Harry started talking.

"A wizard, male, around twenty...too young to experience the war...kidnapped two Muggle children, male, six and female, three, and made experiments with them over the course of several weeks. When we got there the children were badly traumatized.  
They're in St. Mungos to tend their wounds...the boy has lost an arm and it's too late to grow it back.  
It was infected and that arsehole put some kind of potion on it...the child was passed out when we entered the house. It smelled like the kid was rotting alive..."  
Harry choked under his word, his arms clutched around Ron's ribcage in the raw need for support.  
"He was the same age as Lily."

"We've got to make up a story for their parents, but it will take months to get them to point that we can obliviate them and return them to their families."  
Harry shivered in horror, hiding his head in the crook of Ron neck.  
"They weren't the first Muggles he used. We've found buried corpses when screening the garden. A male Teenager and an elderly woman. I feel so guilty that we didn't screen the Muggle police data earlier. We could have saved them."  
Ron was quiet, his eyes were burning. How could any human do something this cruel to other people?  
He knew Harry needed to talk about this, but it hurt so much imagining.  
He's seen wizard bring so much pain to other people...to children.  
A bit awkward he slung his arms around Harry back and pulled him close.  
"You know what that piece of troll dung said, when he was asked why he did it?" Harry hissed in disgust and his fingers clawed painfully in Ron's back.  
"He said, he did the wizarding world a _favour_ with his experiments. That the Muggles didn't matter because they're inferior to him as Wizard."  
there was silence between them, Ron felt the muscles in his neck harden and his own mouth pressing an angry line.  
"I thought we'd fought, so that Wizards and Muggles could coexist without bothering each other. Seeing that the next generation still shits out people with this kind of mindset..."  
Harry pushed himself away from Ron, stared at him in a mix of furore and open disappointment.  
"What did we fight for, Ron?! What do I still fight for?!"  
He shakes Ron by the shoulders.  
"If everything stays the same and people are still thinking like that..."  
his voice died, his arms fell to his side and his fists open powerless. Harry has lived to fight Dark Wizards since he had been a child. He doesn't know any other way to live or think than this.  
The thought of his fights being meaningless is shaking his personality to to its foundations.  
The Harry that fight Dark Wizards and stands for the peaceful coexistence of Muggles, muggle-born Wizards and so-called "pureblood" Wizards is the only Harry he knew.

Ron tentatively stroked the wiry black hair out of the other man's face and gently rubbed the fine, shimmery line of the lightning scar on his forehead.  
"We fought to keep out family and friends safe. We fought to keep ourself from living under a regime of fear and pain."  
His voice was rough.  
This was the first time he really talked about the war since regaining those memories.  
"We fought, to show that we will not tolerate some random arsehole hurting innocent people."  
he leaned his forehead against Harry and looked him in the eyes.  
"Harry. You made a big difference for these children today. You saved the lives of these children! Isn't that enough of a reason to keep fighting?"  
Harry eyes close, his breath becomes more even and the mask of anger, of fear vanished to give room for a softer relaxed expression.  
"There will always be arseholes...but the good people are outnumbering them."  
Just now Ron noticed how awfully close Harry was.  
He blinked, cleared his throat and moved away.  
"We should eat, Harry. You won't solve the world's problems by starving yourself and I'm hungry."  
Harry opened his eyes like waking up from a dream.  
He nodded weakly.

Ron spend the rest of the evening talking about insignificant things, joking and trying to lighten Harry's mood.  
It took effort doing so, while he felt himself drawn back to the past and the things Harry told him.  
He managed to make Harry laugh though.  
A silent chuckling, tainted but brilliant.  
Too fast it was already time for Harry to leave.  
He stood at the door, hesitating...Ron knew he wanted to stay, wanted Ron to keep the black thoughts away.  
Since Ron asked Harry to leave the apartment back then, they didn't talk about "the incident", how Ron called in in his thoughts.  
Harry obediently followed the rule, to stay away during the night, when Ron's magical outburst had been the most likely to go on a rampage, but that didn't mean that he liked it.  
He always looked like he was silently begging for Ron to allow him to stay.  
This was not normal for friends.  
It hadn't been like this when Ron left ten years ago.  
Harry never asked if he was allowed to stay...he just did.  
It had been okay, because he knew that Ron liked him being around.

Today was the first time Ron's resolution was faltering though.  
His friend seemed so vulnerable today and Ron was worried about him brooding too much if he was on his own.  
It was a bit embarrassing to ask for him to stay since the incident though.  
"I..." Ron scratched the back of his head nervously and smiled weakly at Harry. He felt his face getting warm.  
"It's already night and I'd feel saver if you'd be with me when we go to the hospital tomorrow. Just in case something goes wrong, I'm not sure I trust anyone else to react fast enough to keep the people around me safe..." he was rambling excuses, reasons that were not important to him.  
This was difficult.  
He never needed to _ask_ Harry to stay with him.  
"Harry...are you okay to stay here tonight." he muttered fast, before he'd lose his courage.

Harry smiled.  
His face was so bright and happy that Ron feared to go blind.  
He nodded eagerly, hastily pulled the robe over his head, threw it on the ground, leaving him in the faded t-shirt...the same he'd worn two weeks ago.  
Ron felt his own grin grow so broad that it hurt his cheeks, watching Harry enthusiastically jump on the magically enhanced sofa.  
He followed a bit slower, sat down beside him.  
"You and Fre...Jamie are really a lot more alike than a lot of people see." he chuckled and leaned against the headboard.  
"Perhaps that was why it was so easy for me to treat him like my child, like a part of the family, even though we don't look alike at all. I've lived with you for a big part of my childhood...something must have stuck even after losing my memory."  
Harry's grin disappeared, making room for a more wary expression.  
"I've got to tell you something Ron..."  
he leaned next to him against the back part of the couch and looking on his hands.

"I don't want you out of here." he could here guilt in Harry voice.  
"I...liked being alone with you, having your full attention...I was selfish when I wanted you locked up here. It wasn't to help you, because then I could also have left you in the hospital and visit you a lot... that would probably also have been saver. for you..I wanted to have you just for myself."  
Ron tried not to stare at Harry while he kept talking. Silent, his body heavily burdened by weight of his words.  
"It's disgusting how I keep you away from your family. But I can't help it, when it comes to you. You _always_ have been the most important person in my life...more important than Ginny...even more than my own children...I need you with me to keep me sane."  
Harry his rubbing his hands in discomfort. It is obviously difficult to confess something like that.  
"I know I'm selfish. I'm jealous when I think of this blond guy living together with you, being friends with you... I can't help but think, that _I_ should be the one to be the closest to you...it wasn't _right_ to monopolise you like that..."  
Harry leaned closer.  
"I'm sorry, Ron. I'll try to be a good friend from now on."

Ron looked down on the smaller man beside him.  
He'd always wanted to be the best to be seen beside is genius brothers and his beautiful sister.  
Even in the trio friendship with Hermione he was often felt useless. He wasn't a hero like Harry and he wasn't capable and fast-thinking like Hermione.  
He was just normal.  
"You're not a good friend." he grumbled affectionately and ruffled the tousled head.  
"You're the _best_."  
he grinned and to his relief Harry also started smiling again.  
"It's not like being your _most important Wheezy_ is a new information for me. I can live with that." He laughed trying to ease the tense atmosphere, but Harry sharp voice stopped him.

There was still a smile on Harry face, but it was painful, furious.  
"You don't get it, Ron!" he hissed, a fist clenching around Ron's collar.  
"You are the most important _everything_ for me, you stupid sod."  
And then there were lips on his own and it was like he'd never kissed anyone until now.  
Desperate, jealous, selfish...this wasn't a nice kiss.  
It was a bruising and angry and devouring mess of a kiss.  
For a moment Ron didn't know what to do.  
It felt like he was hit by a massive brick wall of feelings, he'd never allowed himself to think about.  
Then he responded no less passionate.  
He felt Harry's weight on his lap, felt heat gathering in his groin and Harry shiver when he touched him.  
Harry wanted this.  
There was no need to play the platonic friend.  
Harry _wanted_ them to belong together.  
It felt good.  
The sinewy body above him, sweaty and filled with want. Spider-like fingers hastily brushing away his cloths and greedily mapping his body.  
Tasting, touching, feeling surrounded by trust and "Bloody Hell, this feels so _right"_ , hearing Harry cry out his name when he came, riding out Ron's own climax looking so unearthly beautiful.  
How could Ron ever think that being with Harry was wrong?

* * *

the last two chapters were rather short, since I was kind of stuck with this one.


	32. Draco 2

Draco Malfoy was just about to finish his morning tea and his reading of the Daily Prophet, when an Express Owl landed not very gracefully in his porridge.  
His little boy giggled at the poor bird, that was now covered with the slimy substance and Draco couldn't help but smile at Scorpius carefree face, while taking the envelope from the talon of the animal.  
"Sorry. I've got to go to work fast." he muttered a few seconds earlier and stepped to the fireplace after a hurried kiss on his sons forehead and his wife's lips.  
"Seriously Potter... couldn't you wait until I finished my breakfast?" grumbled before throwing a hand of floo powder into the fire.

When he entered his office, Potter was not in sight.  
Instead, a certain redhead had made himself comfortable on the edge of his desk, the arms crossed and so smug that Draco felt the urge to hit him very hard in the face.  
"Good morning, Weasley, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he said, sarcasm dripping from every word.  
"Oh, I just thought it would be nice to visit an old _friend_ from school." the Weasley's blue eyes grew cold when they started mustering him.  
"You know that you've got slimy stuff in your robe, Malfoy?" he smirked annoyingly happy making Draco look down his body. He was right there were big, disgusting looking blotches of porridge on his green healer robe.  
He grunted a cleaning charm under the amused eyes of his "patient".  
"Look, would you tell me what leads you out of your hiding hole into my office...and would you get down from my table, you're creasing my papers." he said matter of factly rounding his desk to take place in the armchair behind it.  
He was positively surprised that Weasley actually did how he was told and took place at the chair at the other side of the table.  
"I hoped that you'd run some tests on me, declare me cured and then allow me to start working again. I'm sick of sitting around."  
his grin was broader than ever and Draco felt more and more annoyed with the presence of the redhead.  
"Can't you Gryffindors stay put for once? Why do you always feel the need rush out and cause havoc." He muttered rubbing his eyes, before starting to think how he'd go about it.  
Treating memory loss patients wasn't exactly new business for the hospital but it was unusual having to deal with such a long time period.  
"If I wanted to run havoc, I for sure would be so cautious about this whole gaining control over may magic." Weasley almost looked a bit hurt.  
"So, I take it that you tried to use magic, before getting the opinion of a healer." Draco sighed, getting up.  
It was time to change to a save environment to do the testing.

When they entered the quarantine ward, they saw Potter standing in front of one of the chambers.  
Draco had seen Potter often enough when Potter brought in injured.  
The Auror Harry Potter was a cruel man to his enemies and disturbingly neutral towards the ones he protected.  
Often it didn't seem like he had no empathy left for anyone.  
It had always been difficult for Draco to understand him, but after Weasley was gone, he'd became a like a magical puppet doing what ever was it's task, without sparing thoughts to anything or anyone else.  
"Are these the children?" said Weasley and Draco watched him casually drape an arm around Potter's shoulder. It was a bit annoying, he thought with a scoff, that these to were able to slip back into their friendship, like a well-worn old pair of gloves.  
Practical and comfortable as if no time had passed.  
He couldn't help but feel a bit envious.  
The cold, harsh features of the Auror melted into a soft vulnerable expression, Draco has not seen since war.  
He followed the eyes of the men, even though he exactly knew who they were looking at.  
The boy was still under a sleeping spell. His dirty blond hand must have been cut short at some time, but the haircut had grown out weeks ago.  
He was around six years and his left arm was amputated a bit under the shoulder joint.  
On the floor in front of the boy's bed a toddler played with a couple of toy cars. She was malnourished and there were still traces of abuse on her bare arms and hands, but she looked way better than when he'd seen her yesterday.  
Draco had grown up with the pureblood ideology.  
He'd grown up being told that Muggle and people with mixed blood weren't even worth the dirt under his fingernails. But even with that background...even with seen his father and his father's friends killing people just because they thought of them as inferior, that someone was able to things like this to little children was shocking. Even for him.  
"We still don't know what to do with them. they've got no magical abilities, but changing their memories would potentially cause permanent brain damage. There'll also scars all of their bodies and we can't permanently slap an illusion charm on them either."  
he muttered touching the glass that kept them separated from the quarantine cell.  
"they can't go back to the Muggle world but they'll also never be able to fully participate of the Wizard world. They're kind of stuck in between."  
"So...you think that the parents get told their children are dead?" Potter voice is coarse of emotions.  
He just recently found his son again, Draco remembered.  
Draco understood the love of a parent for their child.  
Potter must have been hurting a lot, losing his son.  
When dealing with Auror Potter, he sometimes forgot that some where under the Auror Department's effective, merciless Angel of Judgement there was still a person. A father, a partner, a friend.  
It was scary how easy Weasley could pull out this part of Potter's personality that actually had feelings.  
He'd just come back, flash a couple of smiles and bring chaos to Draco's work life and all cog wheels stuck in Potters shitty life seemed to be moving again.  
And he didn't only make them moving, he kept the smooth, knowing exactly what to do, to stop Potter from the waves of pain washing over his face.  
"We'll find a way to make the children happy again." practical, simple as that.  
Not the Ministry would find a way.  
Ronald Weasley, him and Potter, _them_ would find a way to give the children as much of a future as possible.  
Potter nodded and he joined them on their way to the testing cells.  
There was no way potter would let him do any testing without being close by.  
Potter would never trust him with anyone of his family and friends even less with Weasley.


	33. Angelina

Angelina Weasley hummed silently while opening door of Diagon Alley 93. the bell above the entrance jingled and the shop assistant peeked around one if the shelves filled with all kind of candy and greeted her.  
it was was already noon and she was hungry and hoped that Ibby already started cooking  
After the war she and George had taken the young house elf in.  
Ibbby lost her Death Eater family completely during the attack at George's and Angelina's and they didn't have any close relatives that could have taken care of the house elf. They, like most Wizard family, had a faint blood relation to the Weasley though.  
The house elf had been placed in their home by the Ministry as a compensation or whet the old masters of Ibby did. All other possessions were auctioned or destroyed and the money went to a fond for war victims.  
It was difficult at first, because while they may have been bad people, they had been relatively good masters for Ibby. Ibby had been crushed by sadness and it needed a while to get her looking happier again and enjoy working for the Weasleys.  
Angelina thought that perhaps she had earned a certain expertise in consoling mourning people. Not that she was especially happy about it.  
George wasn't well. He'll never be okay with not having his twin brother around. This wasn't something you could could heal like a broken arm or grown back like a lost limb.  
However, Angelina liked to believe that with her around he was better and with Ibby and the children to care for he had a reason to continue the shop and try to live.  
She heard the heavy steps rumbling in the apartment above the shop.  
Probably Bill. He often came for lunch to get free food (this was a reason enough for any of the Weasley brothers) and to make sure George had a break.  
When she had her first crush, back then in school, when she had her first Weasley crush (yes, she had a thing for Weasleys, but there were weirder fetishes out there) she had to accept that she couldn't have just one Weasley brother.  
Weasley brothers were only available in a big, loud, quarrelling, meddling bundle and Angelina had come to terms with that.  
She even liked it.

 _"My mumma she told me: don't worry about your size!"_ she heard someone singing, while climbing upstairs. Clearly a Weasley. But it was sometimes difficult to guess which one, since Charlie and Bill had very similar voices.  
Percy would never sing songs like that and Angelina would be able to hear the difference between George on all his brothers, including Fred, without a fail.  
He had this raspy undertone that none of his brothers had.  
 _"'cause girls like a little more booty to hold at night."_ sung the unidentified Weasley brother, when she reached the stairhead.  
She opened the door to the kitchen and saw Bill's sitting at the table, his scarred face glowing in a happy grin and George being shaken so much by his laughter that the quill in his hand sprinkled ink all over his register book.  
 _"I won't be no stick-figure, silicone Barbie Doll!"_ sung Ron twirling a very sharp looking kitchen knife and fluttered his eyelashes on mocked seductiveness at the poor flustered Ibby.  
Both her kids sat on the kitchen counter, fried vegetables in their hands and swinging with their legs.  
Ron had noticed Angelina and took the dishcloth that had hung from his belt and let it snap through the air like whip grinning broadly at her.  
 _"So if that's what you're into, that go ahead and move along!"_  
"what kind of family did I marry into." she muttered but couldn't stop herself from smiling,  
She put down Quidditch bag and gave Ron a gentle pat on the back of his head and kissed both of her children on the cheek before saving Ibby from the fake flirting of her brother-in-law, who was singing that it was all about the bass and he was bringing booty back.  
"the best family ever." grinned Bill broadly.  
In his cool and self-confident way he was one of most sentimental guys she knew and even though he was all smiles, she learned to know her husband's brother well enough that deep inside he had happy tears running down his cheeks.  
They'd all missed Ron, but Bill was probably the most expressive when it came to showing it.  
Ron, was the youngest. His safety and well-being had been their responsibility in a way that Angelina had difficulties to fully understand.  
Even George, who was a jokester most of the time despite the loss of his twin, got serious and fiercely protective, when it came to his younger brother.  
Only this explained, why he had overreacted and used this half-finished protection charm on Ron and the baby in his arms.  
The belief that they failed to keep their baby brother safe was like a heavy blanket that had dimmed the care-free lightness that they had fought so hard to keep after Fred's death and slowly but sure suffocated them.  
Now he was back and seemed to be much more healthy and mentally stable than before he was gone.  
There was no flinching when there was a loud bang from down stairs and he didn't automatically go in a defence stance when Angelina pointed the wand on his chest to remove a blotch of sauce.  
He was still cautious, but his eyes were soft and and they didn't vigilantly scan the room with them at any moment ready should there was a threat.  
The Ron they now learned to know, was more relaxed and though he looked older, he looked much more sure of himself, less full of unhealed wounds on his soul from the war.  
The scars were there, and like Bill's visible scars, like the always present Fred-shaped hole in their life they wouldn't disappear.

"Did you know that this friend of yours had sex with Ginny?" asked Bill after they finished lunch and the children had gone in their rooms to play.  
Ron looked up from his tea and frowned.  
"Yeah, Harry told me about it. He was pretty unhappy about it. He doesn't like Jan."  
George snorted.  
"Well she's his ex-wife, of course he's jealous."  
Ron sighed and looked on his hands. There are a lot of scars from cuts and burns on them.  
"Jan is not a bad person He not someone who would sleep around and actually I would be happy when he started having a functioning relationship instead of staying faithful to a woman that doesn't even remember him or her child. I told him years ago that he should move on, but he didn't.  
He just waited for Marine to come in this little apartment above the pub and in the meantime Pauline became a teenager. Sit down, Ibby. I feel stupid when don't move my hands."  
Ron got on his feet and started to bring the plates to the sink, while he continued talking.

"Magic as a whole was a foreign concept to me back then. Magic as a whole was something, that was totally new and i didn't understood it. I didn't see a difference in Fre...James making butcher knives fly through the kitchen and Pauline getting a beak and starting to shoot fireballs when she was angry.  
I had too much time to think the last days and I believe the reason why Marine was trying to kill her daughter, was because was truly scare and didn't know any other way to protect herself. She couldn't see this monster with wings and bird head as her daughter...she just saw a monster and that's what made her go crazy. The problem wasn't that she had magical abilities..."  
Bill's voice was raspy when he he finished Ron sentence.  
"It was because you think she was a Veela."  
Ron nodded, but it is difficult to see because he had his back towards them and tried washing the dishes.  
"The only thing I don't understand is why she is a Veela. Her mother is a Muggle and men can't be Veela...How do they even keep on getting born, when there are no men?`"

"We could ask Charlie or Fleur..." George grinned slightly crooked.  
"But what has that to do with that bloke doing stuff with our sister, that never wanted to hear or know. She was so loud that even Dad heard him! I'm all for her having a normal partnership for once, not with a ...a hero, that leaves her and the kids alone for months...with a normal guy...but this guy..."  
Ron turned around and looked at him with a smile that was almost apologetic.  
He swiped his foam covered hand on the dish cloth at his belt before crossing the arms before his chest.  
"George...I don't do _normal_. Hermione is not normal. She's a genius. Neville is not normal. He's a hero. Harry is not normal...Jan is not normal..."  
he laughed, but it sounds hollow, exhausted.  
" Being not normal doesn't make them bad people...but there needs to be _someone_ , who levels them out. That's why they stick to me, I suppose. I'm like oil that keeps a machine going. I keep things running, I support, I stop them from doing things they would regret."  
Ron rubs his upper arms.  
There are fine intricate scars on them. Angelina asks himself for the first time if they hurt.  
"Ginny...doesn't do normal either...she's attracted by people that aren't normal. I doubt that anyone in our family can do _normal_. Not even Percy."  
Angelina couldn't look Ron anymore.  
She had known him since he's a scrawny twelve-year-old, but she never really thought about how young he was when he started to be at Harry Potter's side.  
Ron had been part of the second Wizard War, when the people didn't even though there was a threat.  
Bill looked like he wanted to go tackle his youngest brother in a hug, but something held him back.  
"I don't think Ginny made necessarily a wrong choice... but... I've worked in a pub... alcohol does weird things with people...making any kind of important choice while drunk is not the best thing to do in my opinion. The alcohol is what I don't like about this ...thing."


	34. Unknown Ghost 915

Being a ghost in Hogwarts was a lot more boring that he had ever imagined it to be.  
He had thought about it as going through walls to places in the school that no one knew they existed, perhaps even have a look at the chamber of secrets.  
He thought about playing tricks and pranks at the students...he'd loved that if he'd died of old age, but this was not how he wanted to leave the world, his family, his brother behind.  
He never asked to become a ghost.  
Especially not a lame ghost, like he was.

He didn't have a visible form like Sir Nicholas or the Bloody Baron, at the beginning, after he woke up, he had been frightened. His whole being was shaken by the explosion.  
He'd seen his family and friends fight and win and he'd tried to do anything. Help them, reach them...he'd screamed and cried, but no one could here him and there was no way he could console his family, his little brother.  
He couldn't talk to them, they couldn't see him and there was no way for him properly die.  
Not even the other ghosts could see or hear him.  
He was stuck.  
Since years.  
He got used to it, but it was boring and he hated not knowing how his family, his brother was doing.  
Over the years he build up a daily routine.  
In the mornings he was in the Great Hall, trying to glimpse at newspapers...sometime he was luck and there was an article about the Ministry of Magic. afterwards he silently went through the classrooms or to Hagrid's hut and tried to no be too bored.

After a couple of years there was one article about George Weasley's wedding.  
The biggest attack of Dark Wizards after the war.  
They took Ron.  
He couldn't stand how helpless he was.  
You can't go hunting down the ones that hurt your family when you're dead.  
You can't do anything when you're dead.  
He went berserk in the castle for a week. Scaring the house elves, throwing with objects, trying so hard to leave the school's borders, somehow getting to his family...  
Losing another son and brother would break them.  
But he couldn't.  
He couldn't do anything.  
The Ministry of magic managed to trap him.  
He an ID in the Ministry.  
"Unknown Ghost 915". Worst name he ever heard.  
The Ministry tried to get more information, but he couldn't talk to them to answer their questions, so they left without helping him.

When the first of the next generation of Post-war Weasleys were arriving, he was shocked how much time passed.  
He didn't make the connection first the oldest of the kids started school, since young Victoire didn't have red hair, but then he remembered Bill having married Fleur Delacour.  
Victoire with her elegant almost angelic face and her silvery hair was a spitting image of her mother. Only the nose was making her quietly clearly look like a descendant of the Prewett family.  
She had the same long, thin nose as George and Percy.  
He kept around her for a while, tried to find out how the family was doing. but since he couldn't ask questions he couldn't find much informations.  
Victoire didn't talk much about the family with her peers, so he couldn't just eavesdrop.  
And the Ravenclaw tower was probably one of the most boring places for him to be.  
All these people staying by themselves and working with thick books...it was like a whole house full of Hermione Grangers...just in less intelligent.  
She had a hard time when she started school.  
The girls didn't like her...probably because she was pretty, intelligent and had talent.  
Jealous girls are scary.  
The boys were still too young to like her...they were still in the "girls are yuckie"-phase.  
There was Teddy Lupin, a Hufflepuff a year above her...he as nice to her.  
He liked the boy, but he was way too nice to really use his talent to shapeshift to its full potential.  
It was a waste.  
Except for her friendship with Ted, Victoire was a lonely girl that had to deal with the hostility of the girls from her year.  
He started to play pranks to them. Not for fun. It was fun if you couldn't laugh about pranks. He did it to get them back for hiding her things, pushing her head into a toilet, burning her hair, putting bubblegum in her hair...generally they were really fixated on her hair. At the end of her first year she had only a buzz cut left.  
After scaring one of the kids too much by following her for two days straight, the other ghosts on Hogwarts were annoyed and asked the Spirit Division of the Ministry of Magic for help.  
Except of Peeves, they had never liked him and they still remembered very well the day he went berserk, throwing sharp object around and almost killing an owl in the process.  
They didn't like that he didn't talk and that they couldn't see him, even though he was a ghost like them.

He knew the Ministry worker.  
A young man with blue eyes and blond hair. He had fought beside him in the last battle.  
Anthony Goldstein.  
The turned out to be more able to think outside the box.  
Instead of trying to force him with weird magical mechanism, that hurt like crazy, he just put down a quill.  
"Unknown 915.I'm just here to find out what happened."  
the young man said calmly and sat down in one of the heavy arm chairs of the Ravenclaw common room.  
The Room was empty, since the students had classes right now and they sealed the doors. Just the Ghost of the Grey lady was sitting disgruntled on the pedestal of her mother's sculpture.  
"this is the second time, you lost your temper, Unknown 915, but usually you're not a troublemaker."  
Should he be offended that they didn't call him a troublemaker?  
Troublemaker was his middle name!  
"You are able to move objects, so if you are able to write, please tell me what happened, so that we can help you."  
Anthony Goldstein was a genius.  
In all these years, he never had the idea to use writing to communicate with others.  
It wasn't easy at first.  
The quill was difficult to control, without feeling the weight on his fingers, but after a few finally he managed to write.  
'I PROTECT VICTOIRE' on the scroll.  
"So you're trying to help one of the students? Did the girl have problems with her fellow students?"  
'YES'  
"If they leave her alone, do you leave them alone."  
'YES'  
"Good. I'll try to find a way to inform the students to leave her alone and you stop being a prat. Do we have deal?"  
'DEAL'

Knowing that he could write was great discovery, but the control of the quill was exhausting and so he still didn't use it much.  
From time to time he used it to communicate with the school's new headmaster, Neville Longbottom, when he felt that there was something the young man needed to know.  
He wrote Victoire once, to tell her that she should be proud of herself and that she was strong and that she wasn't alone.  
He suspected that someone, perhaps the headmaster, had told her about him, since sometimes Victoire would talk to him, when she noticed the flames of fireplace turn blue and the room becoming cold from his spiritual presence.  
The bullies needed a few reminders, but finally they left her alone and and he went back to his quiet daily routine, still keeping an eye on her.  
A year later, her younger sister Dominique entered school.  
While the beauty of their mother very apparent in Dominiques features, the younger sister looked much less like a Veela and much more like a very elegant version of a Weasley.  
She had soft red hair and the same blue eyes as her father Bill.  
She was sorted into Gryffindor, which he was very pleased about.  
Dominique was a popular girl. The girls in her dorm room liked, she was fast in making friends in all houses, even Slytherin.  
Her adventurous, sunny personality and great leadership skills made it easy to like her.  
As soon as she entered a room, she owned it and everyone was following her lead, without Dominique even asking for it.  
He thought that she was a lot like Bill.  
Bill also never needed to ask for respect.  
He just grinned at you as if you were the greatest thing that ever happened to him that day, with his big heart and trustworthiness and everyone was tripping over their feet to not disappoint him.  
Even him and George had deeply respected their oldest brother.  
Being scolded by him, which luckily only happened a small number of times, was taken much more serious by them than being scolded by their mother or father.  
this girl was like that.  
Pure hero material.  
With her sister around and her classmates getting a bit older, Victoire also started to make a few friendships...even with two of the girls of her dorm room, that had been among the bullies a year before.  
Since Dominique didn't need his support, he didn't see any reason to bother her and just checked on her from time to time, still spending most of her time in the Ravenclaw rooms accompanying Victoire.

The first person who needed his support again was Molly Weasley.  
He needed a while to find out that she was Percy Weasley's daughter.  
Percy had always been a Mummy's boy so it was not that unexpected for him that she was wearing her grandmother's first name.  
She was a Hufflepuff and since people knew she was a relative of the three Weasley siblings, Victoire, Domique and Louis, there was no one brave enough to bully her.  
He was a bit disappointed when he first saew her.  
She was not a very bright person. A child of average intellect and magical talent, which fit her since she was Percy's daughter and if there was one thing Percy wanted to be, it was normal.  
Her looks were the only thing that made her stand out.  
She was an albino.  
White hair, red eyes, not a single freckle in sight and thick glasses. A bit chubby and very shy.  
He thought she was boring.  
IT was around her second year, that he noticed, that perhaps she was perhaps a bit funny though.  
When everyone went upstairs she'd stay awake and when he started to spy on her, he noticed she was trying to learn to write and use her wand with her left hand even though she was clearly right-handed.  
Curious about the reasons behind it he started looking at her in the evening.  
She was not a very brave person, so when he started to follow her, she got scared.  
He felt bad for making the little girl cry.  
Something he'd never really feel sorry about, when he was alive.  
Being ghost changed who he was.  
Ted Lupin took Molly under his wings and he backed off. He wanted his family to feel safe. They'd enough scary experiences for centuries.  
She was so sensitive and the way she tried so hard, always doing her best, always playing by the rules, reminded her so much of Percy it hurt.  
He missed his family.

It was after her younger sister Lucy entered school, that he started putting together the pieces.  
Lucy was left-handed like her father Percy.  
Like himself.  
Molly was trying to fit in.  
He decided to help her.  
She was still scared, when she noticed him following her, and tried to not be alone in a room ,when she felt his presence.  
Which was annoying, because he didn't exactly felt like doing his "writing letters"- business in front of a whole Hufflepuff Common Room.  
One day, he was standing at the door, watching her write and how she swapped hands and write with her left on a paper under her homework from time to time, when a high children voice made him turn around.  
Slytherin neck-tie, red hair and more freckles than he could count, a bit too thin, like Ron, Bill and Percy as children, perhaps 11 years old.  
Lucy Weasley stared directly at him.  
"Sir." She asked and her pale blue eyes were free from fear.  
He blinked at her for a moment.  
"Sir, why are you following my sister?" she asked with an cautious look but also a little bit amused about his own confused face.  
This girl. Could do. What no other could until now.  
She saw him.

"Wait...do you see me?" muttered more to himself than to the kid.  
Just because she could see him didn't meant that she could hear him.  
"Well...it's not like you're invisible." the kid laughed.  
This was the first if the new generation of Weasleys that he didn't like. All the other ones were in their way somehow nice.  
But this girl was someone who planned things.  
She must have seen him since her start in Hogwarts and just now she pointed him out?  
What a creepy little girl she was.  
"You can see me and you can hear me... that's a first for me. I tried to make contact since the war!"  
he grumbled looking down in her suspiciously, but he still followed the child when she made her way to an empty classroom.  
"So you died in the War, Sir?" she asked politely sitting in one of the desks and swinging with a scrawny legs.  
"Yeah. It's a bit blurry though, so don't ask how I died...I don't know for sure. One moment I was making fun of your father and the next I see myself lying on a bloody stretcher and my whole family is crying."  
he shrugged a bit helplessly, but the kid seemed to relax.  
"So...you know my dad? You're not trying to scare my sister?" she asked a bit friendlier.  
"No. I was just curious. Wanted to know why she's trying to learn to write with her left hand. Wanna to tell me how the family is doing? Is George okay?"


	35. Harry 5

This was probably the most difficult thing he'd done after breaking up with Ginny.  
He felt bad about it.  
Even though Hermione was now happily married to Victor, he still felt like he was telling her that her husband cheated on her with him.  
Ron and Hermione had led a happy marriage until everything went southwards and Ron was gone.  
He never had said anything, even though she trusted him.  
She knew that Ron was the most important, Ginny knew too...but he deliberately kept quiet about what that meant.  
It was bad enough that he lied to Ginny by promising her to be her partner...he loved her but, not enough. Not how he should have. And he lied when he said she was the one he wanted to spend his live with.  
His life didn't work without Ron in it.  
It was even more terrible that he lied to Hermione. She would trust him with her life.  
She went to hell and back with him. She was tortured for him, killed for him.  
And he lied to her.  
And said he was happy that she was marrying Ron. That he was happy that they were happy together.  
He lied to world.  
He lied to Ginny.  
He lied to Ron.  
And, the worst, he lied to himself.  
He told himself that he was happy even though he knew it was a lie.

this was all his fault.  
He was the one initiated it.  
And he couldn't even bring himself to feel sorry about it.  
Guilty? Yes.  
But not sorry.  
Being connected to Ron and feeling that he was alive and with him, that he could make him feel good...Harry can't remember when he ever felt this happy at any point of his life.  
He should have done this from the very beginning...or perhaps after war, since he wouldn't make it through the war if one of them had stopped supporting him.

"So, what was it? Why are coming in my office, limping and looking like you were just hit by an emotional lorry?"  
Hermione set down two cups on the little coffee table in her offices and started to fill them with tea before sitting across of him.  
Harry took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes, then he put them on again.  
Hermione looked worried.  
"I had a hard day yesterday. Some crazy guy thought he could make Muggles into Wizards. Said it was the only way to save the Wizard World, since apparently our genetic pool is too small."  
Hermione took a sip of her tea.  
"Well..it's not completely wrong, Harry and you know that." She looked at him steadily. Probably she already figured out that this was not the main problem.  
"Magical talent is a genetic thing, otherwise there wouldn't be any families full of wizards and witches. If it was just coincidence, there would be just on wizard perhaps two per family. Since there are wizards from seemingly pure Muggle families, the "magic gene" must be running recessive in their family line. Two Muggles get a Muggle child unless they're both carrying the recessive magic gene then there a certain chance for them to get a little magic baby."  
Harry laughed bitterly.

"Yes, that what that guy said too. We've got around 40 children every year in Hogwarts and it is the only school that teaches magic here in Britain. Homeschooling is forbidden since the war so we've more control about what the kids learn how they're raised. There are are perhaps ten fifteen children every year that go to other European schools. That's a tiny amount of the British population.  
The guy says instead of marrying Muggles we should mutate Muggles, so that they can do magic and pass it on to their children.  
By this the community would have a bigger number of people that are not so close related to each other...You know that a majority of the British Wizard Community is related to the Weasley. Inbreeding over centuries isn't good he said, so to stop this he went and abducted Muggle...children."  
Harry whimpered the last word.  
His hands shivered. He was about to kill that guy when he was interrogating him.  
He'd been so angry.  
Dean stopped him with a well-timed Expelliarmus...he broke the guy's nose instead.  
"he kept them alive for months, did freaky experiments with them and gave them weird potions trying to torture the magic out of them or something. We've found the remains of at least two of them buried in the backyard and we saved to kids. A little girl that's probably the age of Roxanne and a boy the age of Lily. The boy's arm was ripped off. No matter what reason he had...you don't do that to people. I won't forgive him for what he did."  
Hermione rounded the table and pulled him in her arms and for a moment he let her but then he gently pushed her away.  
"It's okay, sit down Hermione...the story isn't over yet. This is...I...I try to explain..."  
He took of his glasses again, rubbed his eyes and put them on again and waited until she sat down.

"I was...not well that evening. Went to my safehouse, where Ron was...he helped."  
his head sank low, he didn't want Hermione see his eyes...his face.  
"He has his memory back and he was talking about...you know...why we wanted to be Aurors ...why we fought the war...protecting people...keep going even though you just want to hole up some where and never have anything to do with mankind...all that shite."  
he nervously scratched his head even just thinking about it was hard.  
"And I...it just made me realise how much I've missed him. How I wouldn't even made it to my 12th birthday if it wasn't for you and Ron. How much I... needed Ron to be there and how important he was to me."  
he heard Hermione shifting in her chair but didn't dare to look up, since he felt his eyes getting wet.  
"So I told him that."  
he made pause, took off his glasses and put them on the table, because they were too fogged anyway.  
"You know what that bloody bastard he did?"  
he looked up in Hermione's eyes. She nodded him to continue.  
"He was laughing at me! He didn't take me serious at all! He was just saying something like: Well...yeah, I know that! Tell me something new."

Hermione obviously tried very hard not to laugh.  
"that's so _'Ron'_!" she said trying to keep her face straight.  
"You know he has as emotional perception as a teaspoon. What did you expect?" she said with an awkwardly strained voice.  
"I don't know...it made me pretty angry, because I was bloody serious about it and that prat just laughed it off!"  
Hermione gave up and started giggling.  
"So...I was pretty angry...and I assure you, I was as perplexed as him...and then..."  
he chickened out a bit, so he said very fast and very quiet.  
"We had angry sex."  
silence.  
Just the monotonous ticking of the clock.  
"Uhm...what?"  
"You heard me." there was no going back now. Be a Gryffindor, Potter!  
"We had angry sex."

Hermione blinked at him, once, twice, mouth open like he wanted to say something, but didn't know what. She took a sip of tea.  
"wait...you two...you're not...you were never _like that_?!" she stammered and Harry nodded agitatedly.  
"That what I thought too. It's not like I really thought about it...much."  
"so you thought about before?"

"Well...he's my best friend and we were around each other basically 24/7. I was a Teenager... It's called puberty, Hermione!  
Not that I had the leisure to think about stuff like that much anyway... since you know there was some crazy dark wizard out there at the age when you normally think about stuff like that.  
Then there was a number of girls that I really liked...I like women...I really love Ginny, even though, I'm pants at showing it and we didn't work out..."  
while he was rambling, Hermione obviously still had problems digesting the new information.  
"But Ron is and was always the one that kept me from going mad. His role didn't change at all since we were kids, he still is... "  
Harry laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact with Hermione.  
"...the thing you'd miss the most."Hermione whispered.  
Harry nodded.  
"We always knew that...Ron too...that's probably why he was laughing about it...Ginny and me knew too...but I never expect you to...he never seemed to be the type

Hermione stammered for the right words, before finally popping the question that really bothered her.  
"If Ron wanted to do things like that to you, why did he say that he loved me and that I was the person he'd want to stay his life with? Did you lie to Ginny, when you asked her to marry you?"  
this is what Harry had been scared of.  
The friendship between between the three of them and the marriage between Ron and Hermione was build on trust. Learning that Ron lied to her about such an important thing would damage their relationship.  
Harry cleared his throat before answering, trying to find the right words.  
"I...I don't know about Ron, but I never really thought about Ron in any other way than as my best mate and partner. That's what we are.  
Ginny on the contrary...I really loved her and wanted to marry her, I enjoyed and needed the sexual part in our marriage and as long as I could be with Ron as friends and see him almost everyday, it was a happy marriage. It got unhealthy after Ron was gone. Ginny and I weren't able to support each other. We were clinging to each other but all it did was making us miss Jamie and Ron even more.  
I never thought of my marriage with her or us becoming parents as a mistake, but I think that her becoming pregnant with Albus so fast after losing Jamie was very hurtful for both of us, because it made us realise that there's no way to fill the hole that Jamie left behind. It not fair to Al...We would have needed Ron in that phase. Both of us."


	36. Ron 3

So he was a free man now.  
Ron didn't know how terrible it was to not be able to go outside whenever you wanted until now.  
"Dobby is a free elf!" he muttered with a broad grin when they had finally left St. Mungos and Harry laughed.  
Malfoys tests had been annoying to painful and Ron had seen Harry wanting to lash out more than once to prevent the healers hurting his friend, but just one look in Harry face made the hand relax and Harry stay back.  
After such a long time without it was a bit exciting for him, that their friendship had so much control over Harry.  
He was the chess player, the navigator and back then when they started as Auror their co-workers had been amazed by the way Ron was able to "control" Harry...in fact he didn't.  
Ron didn't really matter in this.  
Their trust in each other did though.  
Ron only insisted on something when he was very sure that it was the right decision and Harry knew that, knew his talent to see the big picture and trusted him enough to at least consider Ron's opinion.  
This is also why Harry apparated away instead of staying at Ron's side, like he obviously wanted.  
Ron had told him that he wanted a bit of alone time with his family after having only Harry's company around for so long.  
The redhead had seen the way Harry eyebrows kissed above the nose and the mouth becoming a fine line. But he decided to ignore the jealous sparkle in his best mate's eyes and after a moment of staring at each other wordlessly Harry had complied and got on the way to the Ministry of Magic.  
Ron had waited a bit longer, enjoying the brisk winter air and the icy sun on his face before making his way to the apparition area.  
It was the first time he apparated since years and he felt a but sick after he arrived in front of the Leaky Cauldron.  
In front of the colourful window of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes he ran into Bill, who had tears in his eyes. Bill hugged so tightly that his ribs hurt and so long that people started staring at the two grown men clinging to each in the busy shopping street.  
"Oi! Old man! Stop it! The people stare at us, like we're a bunch of exhibitionists!" Ron finally complained which made Bill let him go.  
Back then he'd been in his thirties. A young father. Now in his forties his wrinkles have gotten deeper, the hair was paler, the face less round and he looked more like Dad.  
Bill has really gotten older.  
He still had this aura of perfection around him...he probably would always have.  
"let's go inside." Bill grinned throwing one arm around Ron's shouldera and gripping his biceps in a form of brotherly affection. Bill had always been physical when it came to show feelings.

Meeting George was different.  
Ron sometimes thought that George was a lot like himself.  
They both liked attention, but their true ability was not the driver's seat it was the navigator.  
Seeing him without a driver, without Fred, made a wave of sadness wash over him.  
He looked at George who blinked, both unsure how to do this "reunion" stuff.  
They'd seen each other before, but not with all of Ron's memories back.  
Bill saved them by putting a arm around both their neck and dragging them the stairs up toward the private rooms of the family.  
They had lunch and bit by bit the awkwardness vanished being replaced be the old feeling of "home".  
Talking to his big brothers was easy and the slipped back in the friendly bickering and teasing that had been their way to communicate since Ron was able to speak.  
He'd known Angelina since he was a wee first-year, they had played in the same Quidditch team and she'd been pretty close with Fred and George, so they knew each other well.  
It was nice catching up to what happened to the family in the last decade and he it was good talking about this Ginny thing going on without Harry looking like he wanted to strangle Jan.  
The German wasn't a bad guy.  
He sometimes a bit too impulsive, chaotic, had trust issues and difficulties to be a good dad to his daughter...like Harry, Jan had no real father figure, since his father was a prat that didn't care about anyone but himself and his fame. There was no role model for being a good father...he tried though and he was fiercely loyal to his friends and his daughter.  
Ron liked him and he was his biggest support when he was alone and overwhelmed with his life and caring for Fr...Jamie.  
He hoped that telling his older brothers about Jan would make them less hostile towards his friend.  
He still felt like beating up Jan the next time they'd meet, because as a whole this was still very, very stupid.

After lunch, George and Bill had to work and Angelina and the kids wanted to take nap so Ron left Number 93 and walked around aimlessly in the Diagon Alley for a while. He went to Gringotts to have a bit of money in his pockets and made a visit a Madam Malkins because the cloths that Harry had given him were way too short for him. He decided on a few simple robes in the lower price range and kept a dark blue one on when he decided that visiting the Ministry of Magic and find out how his co-workers did was not a bad way to continue the day.

After entering the MoM through the visitor's entry in Whitehall, he stood for a while in the Atrium taking on the sight.  
The big, dark _Monument of Magic is Might_ was gone and instead there was the _Statue of Responsibility_ showing a Witch that looked a lot like Minerva McGonnagal shielding a Muggle child under her cloak.  
There were a few people that recognised him because of work or because they'd been in school together, but it was surprisingly anticlimactic after him being declared as dead for almost nine years...but after all he wasn't Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom...he wasn't a hero.  
He ran into Padma Patil on his way to the Auror Department and she was started crying a little bit, so it seems like at least some people were happy to have him back.  
Harry wasn't in the head quarter of the Auror Department on Level Two.  
They had redesign the open plane office for the regular Aurors. The cubics were fully closed now and had doors. Probably a security measurement to keep informations from leaking.  
He met a few faces he knew, but there were a lot of young Aurors he'd never seen.  
He made his way to Department chief's office.  
In the past Harry and him had shared this job for a few years.  
He knocked at the open door before entering the office.  
The new department chief was small, agile man a few years older than him. He had grey hair and when Ron entered he smirked politely before offering him a seat at the other side of the desk.

Twenty minutes later he left with the promise to check in from time to time even if he may decide to not return to his Job as an Auror.  
Ron still didn't know if he wanted to do that.  
Being an Auror and fighting at Harry's side had always seemed like the obvious choice and he still felt bad letting Harry go risk his life without being able to help...but he also liked his new job and wasn't sure if he wanted to make his family sad and worried by continuing such a dangerous job.  
He still was a valuable source of information and experience now that he had his memories back.  
At last that's what Ron thought, but it turned out that the main thing the Department chief wanted help with was Harry.  
Ron chuckled when he made his way to the Department for magical Accidents and catastrophes one level above the Auror department.  
He crossed the open plane office until he reached one seniors offices and knocked at the door.  
"Mr. Finnagan!" He greeted tipping his invisible hat.  
The Irish man looked for a moment like he'd seen a ghost before a broad grin spread over his face.  
"Weasley! Were have you been, you bloody sod!" he boomed bumping in his desk when he jumped towards him and pulled him in a brotherly man-hug slapping his back in excitement.  
"France." he answers and returned the hug shortly.  
"So wanna tell me what my favourite Irishman had done in the meantime? Got a family?"  
Seamus laughed and shook his head and told him about his bachelor life with his roommate and best friend Dean while they made their way to the custody cells.

The last time he'd seen Dean Thomas he still had been an Auror. He looked better than back then.  
He'd put on a bit of weight and his skin wasn't as grey as it had been.  
Their greeting was less exuberant than that with Seamus, but Dean still seemed happy to see Ron and he when to make them some tea in his office.  
"Did they degrade you, Dean? Or why to do you sit here in an office. Such a _waste_! You were a great Auror, what are yo doing here?!"  
Dean laughed quietly.  
"No I just decided that I'm too young and sexy to be killed. Especially by my own team."  
Ron's eyes closed for a moment.  
Friendly fire happened but what Dean said sounded more like...  
"No, it wasn't a traitor. Harry is my friend, but without you around he's a freaky lunatic. He doesn't care neither for his own nor for the safety of the victims and his own men matter only as long as he needs them and they don't get in his way. In his mind there's still war. He fights like a suicide soldier."  
Deans voice it rough and his eyes stare through Ron as if he doesn't see him.  
"We've seen him do things that even some Death Eaters would feel bad about. He has no problem with using the Cruciatus or other curses to torture, when he feels it is the only way to get what he wants and if he get his victim it is a fight against the clock for the Auror Department to get them locked up before he kills them."

Ron frowned.  
This didn't sound like Harry at all.  
Harry was very capable of inflicting pain to someone if he thought he was saving innocent lives with it. He was an impulsive person and it was like him to hurt someone in anger or despair, when he felt like they hurt people dear to him.  
Harry had shown that in the war and Ron could see him torture.  
Though...Harry would not deliberately take the life of a person even in anger. Harry never crossed that line and Ron knew him well enough that he never would.  
It was the different between a fighter in a war, that fought with the purpose to protect the ones dear to him and a mere killer.  
"Harry would _never_ kill." he whispered staring at Dean and saw his old comrade hang his had low.

"Harry...doesn't kill because he wants to, but it happens as a collateral damage." Dean muttered taking a sip of his tea.  
"He's too determined.  
Like a lone beast on the hunt. He will destroy anything between him and his prey.  
He's only put on the trail of the real bad cases and he's send in to fight alone in nowadays, because he doesn't care for the safety of anyone when he's doing the job. We can't afford losing newbies every time he takes someone with him and the seniors have the right to refuse a job when they feel they're not capable of doing it."  
Ron sighed staring down in his mug.  
"...and Harry prefers fighting alone especially when he feels his partner is holding him back."  
Dean nodded.  
"Seriously...I was thinking about continuing my nice civil job in my little kitchen while my partner is going berserk." grumbled Ron.  
"You would think a grown up man like him would be able to take better care of himself. He didn't change a bit since the war. Show me the latest collateral damage, Dean? The child torturer?"  
Seamus had been quiet until now but now he grinned and Ron could have been seeing things, but perhaps he looked a little hopeful.  
"He told you about the guy? As soon as you're back he actually opens up to someone!" he laughed and got on his feet and emptied his mug.  
"anyway I've got to go back to work. Thanks for the tea, Dean-o!"

Dean hesitated for a moment but finally he took Ron to the cell that contained the man.  
John G. Pugnus had a soft young face and, round eyes that looked like were constantly wondering. His voice was gently and if it wasn't for the swollen, badly healed nose he didn't look like the type to get into trouble.  
Ron's felt the anger rise. This naïve, seemingly harmless guy was the reason why the children in the hospital could never reunited with their parents.  
"Hello, you dirty, little murderer?"  
Dean behind him made a step back when he heard the icy undertone in Ron's voice.  
"Good day, Sir. Came to hit me, like your co-worker?" the man said politely and smiling slightly at them.  
"Oh no. I'm no Auror. I'm just a regular cook...I just thought we could have a little chat." Ron crossed his arms and tried to be not threatening. There was no need to make the guy too scared just yet.  
"Yeah...that why they let you walk around here."  
Ron chuckled but didn't reply instead he changed the topic.  
There was only one reason why Harry would lose control and that was that he still thought the case wasn't over. At least the Harry he knew.  
"Say...do you have a second house? Four is an incredible small amount of test subjects, don't you think? Especially if you're so rough with them that they don't survive that long."  
the young man stayed quiet and smiled friendly.  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
Ron took a sip of the tea that was still in his hands.  
"You know there's a little spell that I picked up. It's nice because it only works on prats like you and it doesn't leave scars. It would be nice if I don't have to use it, but if you insist I can give you a little sample."  
the boy laughed and for a moment his innocent act slipped revealing his cruel face and that was enough to make Ron mumble his curse.  
" _Poenae delice_."  
A moment later the guy was on the floor screaming in pain.

"Ron what did you do to him! You can't just..." Dean said but got quiet when they heard steps from the stairs they would stay alone for long.  
"it's okay, Dean... it just a harmless little curse... that makes him go through the physical pain of his victims. A friend showed me how it works a while back." with a wave of his wand in a quiet Finite.  
"So, boy... are you willing to speak with me now or to we need to get to the part were you blew off the kid's arm?"

Aurors where running in the hallway from the doors there were screams bit they were stopped by Dean.  
Good, fast-thinking guy he was, that Thomas.  
The man in the cell looked vulnerable and broken. More like a child than like an adult. Ron was painfully reminded of the fact how young this guy was.  
"I...I'll talk...please stop! I'll talk!" he whimpered rubbing his arms subconsciously, his face wet from tears.  
"That's a good thing to hear. I think these gentlemen here, will listen to you with pleasure."  
Ron's smile froze when he heard Harry's voice behind him.  
He turned around to see him stepping closer. Harry was angry.  
"This is not your job anymore, Ron. Go home!" He whispered when he was close enough and for a moment Harry's hand rested on his shoulder blade.  
"If it involves you I'm involved anyway, mate...look at him he doesn't even have a scratch and I've known you long enough, to know that you would have done the same."  
Harry closed his eyes for a moment.  
The short disturbance in his friend's magic made it known to him that he was fighting with himself, didn't know if he needed him close or wanted him gone.  
"could you discuss this somewhere else?" said Dean softly.  
"We've got an interrogation to do here."

"This is not some fun game, Ron! The less people know you're back, the less people want to go kill you!" grumbled Harry while they went quickly back to the Auror Department.  
"I pissed of a lot of people in the last years and you're known to be my best mate."  
Ron tutted.  
Harry shouldn't treat him like a child. He was a grown man and he knew very well on how to protect himself.  
"I've worn a giant target sign on my butt since I was twelve, mate. Never stopped me from doing what I thought was the right choice." he mumbled frowardly.

they reached Auror Department and a few steps later he was shoved in the Harry's office and the door closed with a silent click.  
Harry waved his wand and mumbled a soundproofing charm and for the first time he really looked at Ron.  
"Bloody Hell, Ron! Don't do this to me! You can't just use torture to make people speak there! You're not an Auror! You're not even fit to be an Auror at the moment!"  
Ron felt Harry grabbing his collar and blink of an eye later he was pushed against the thin wooden wall of the office.  
"You haven't being in magical combat for years. Even with your experience...you're out of training, Ron! If they get you you're as good as dead!"

"Then train with me! Do you expect me to be locked up somewhere hidden for the rest of my life?!"  
Until now he was almost a bit amused that Harry went so out of shape because of him trying to help the Auror Department.  
Not that he really thought about it. It had been a spontaneous decision to try it after he'd seen how smug that guy was.  
Now though, he started to get a little bit displeased too.  
"So you don't want me helping you ?! That is my JOB, Harry! Supporting you is what I DO!" he spat and tried to get lose from the Auror's grip.  
"If you say, you don't need me here, then I'm going back to France. In case you forgot: I've got a job, a home and people there, that I care about."  
As soon as he said it he regretted it.

All colour were gone from Harry's and his eyes became big with fear.  
"NO!" he roared like a cornered wild animal.  
"I won't let you leave me like that!"  
Harry fingers clawed in his cloak, the eyes torn open in despair.  
So pale, so scared.  
"I couldn't stand losing you again! Ron, please! I...I'd do anything! Please don't leave me alone again! I need you with me!"  
his voice became quieter and quieter until it wasn't more than a breath against Ron's throat.  
"Come on, mate." muttered Ron hoarsely.  
"We went over that years ago. As long as you don't want me gone, I'll be beside you, Harry."  
Harry lifted his head.  
His eyes had gone from panicky dark green to the usual attentive brightness again. There was hope glistening in them.  
"Promise." Ron tried a grin and bumped his head gently against Harry's.

About an hour later he was sitting in Percy's strikingly boring car, his elder brother on the driver's seat.  
"So what was that drama in the custody ward about?" asked Percy while they flew over Salisbury.  
Ron watched his brother's reflection on the dark window.  
He seemed like he was trying to hide that he was worried. It's not as Ron didn't knew that he was a big worrywart.  
"I was a bit..." Ron sighed.  
"I know Harry pretty well. I know how he acts when he thinks a case isn't over and I know by the way he acts when he's stuck. So...it overreacted and tried to help and neither Harry nor the Auror Department was happy about me getting involved."  
Percy laughed.  
"Why do my brothers always get themselves into trouble!"  
"I don't try to get into trouble! Trouble usually finds me."  
they shared a amused chuckle before Percy concentrated on piloting the flying car again.  
"Jan...a few years ago he worked for an international ethic project. They wanted to decide if and if yes then which curses are allowed to be used for interrogation purpose by the executive forces. They wanted to standardise them in Central Europe."  
Percy made a surprised sound.  
"I remember that. There was a little conflict because we British, with just having a Wizard War behind us, weren't very keen on limiting our Aurors."  
Ron nodded.  
"Jan asked for my opinion as someone uninvolved and I told him, that I thought that if the officials were torturing the same way as the bad guys, then what makes them different. He showed me a few curses to explain what he meant."  
Percy interjected him to ask if he knew about curses and the international community and Ron explained that he knew about it a bit since it was difficult to hide if you lived together and had two magically talented children in the family, but Jan kept him out if the most things.  
Then he continued.  
"One of them was pretty interesting...it was contributed by Poland I think. If you didn't do anything wrong, the curse doesn't work and if you do protect other it also doesn't...but if you enjoyed inflicting physical pain on others, it will make you go through the pain your victim experienced. Depending on what the person did it is very painful."

Ron could see a certain admiration in Percy's eyes, when he finished.  
"So just from seeing it once, you knew how to use it? That's pretty advanced magic, little brother!" he muttered and preparing the landing.  
"Well...just because I'm always around people that outshine me without even trying doesn't mean that I'm not pretty okay-ish myself." Ron laughed watching the lights of the Burrow come closer.  
"Harry was pretty angry though. He doesn't want me back as an Auror...he's scared of me getting into his trouble and losing me. If it were for him I'd spent the rest of my life isolated from everyone else...the war might have made him a bit loopy, I guess." snorted Ron.  
The car landed and the door opened just minutes later and Mum ran towards them followed by Ginny and her kids.  
"My boy! My little boy!" Mum cried and threw her arms around Ron's neck. Even in her late sixties she still had a lot of physical strength, so he couldn't do more than letting her hug him until she was ready to let go and move on to the next son.

Ron smiled a bit sheepishly at his younger sister after taking Fr...Jamie in his arms.  
"Hey, Ginnygirl!"  
Ginny smiled similar insecure before making a step beside him and laying an arm around his shoulder.  
Ron hand found a way to her waist he pulled her close.  
"I heard there was a lot going on in your life the last days... mind to tell me what happened?"

* * *

This was a difficult chapter. Perhaps Auror was never the right job for Harry...not because he's not good a it, but because he's so used to being constantly vigilant and i can see him being pretty cruel, when it is for the people he cares about and/or what he thinks is right.


	37. Jan 2

"Honey! I'm home!" hummed Henry's and he planted himself beside Jan, who was just finishing a calculation.  
"Welcome home, Darling." he answered automatically without lifting his gaze from his register book. Jan had been scared that the regain of Henry's memories would make their relationship change. He felt comforted when his friend had greeted him with the same light-hearted inside joke as always.  
He felt the weight of Henry's hand on his shoulder and the shadow of the red-haired man fell on his register book.  
The fell back into the homely, warm embrace of the French language, talking about the Pub, about Pauline, home. It felt more natural and Jan liked the exclusiveness they had among the English speaking Weasleys.  
He liked this family, but Jan was bad at this family-thing.  
Being with a friend like Henry felt much more natural to him and it was weird to see how easy Henry blended in the Weasley crowd.  
Henry as just one facet one tiny part of the big unknown Person that was Ron Weasley.  
Henry as a brother, Henry as a son...these were parts of his personality that Jan had never seen.

It was nice see him interact with his family and it made Jan understand why it was so for Henry to act like a family with him and the kids.  
Being member of the big Weasley family was one major aspect of Ron's personality.  
Ron, so he learned, was a team player like Henry.  
He was easy-going and went through life with the smallest possible effort using common sense and his great social skills, like Henry.  
Ron wasn't as care-free as Henry though. He was much more vigilant. His eyes were restless and he was always ready to spring into action.  
They seemed to constantly scan his surroundings and observing his family members to make sure they were okay.  
Henry was like the person Ron could have been if he weren't born as a wizard that got deeply involved in one of the most violent magical wars in the twentieth century.  
Jan still didn't how exactly his friend had been involved in the Second British Wizard War and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know it, but the Weasleys had implied that he had played an important role and he seemed to be close friends with this Harry Potter guy.  
Jan still didn't know what he should think about Ginny's ex as well.  
He didn't seem like a totally bad person, but he obviously didn't treat his wife the right way since otherwise she wouldn't have felt the need to break up with him.  
A pretty drunk Ginny had told and equally tipsy Jan a bit about their relationship and even now she seemed to care a lot about Harry.  
It seemed always like so kind of disappointed hero-worshipping. As if she noticed that being the wife of Harry Potter was a totally different thing than being the friend or even the girlfriend of him.  
She was a nice woman and while he slightly regretted not treating her with the respect she deserved and waiting until they both were able to make that decision, he still liked her.  
She had some parts in her personality that Henry also had, that Jan really liked.  
She was cool, funny, bright, confident and a great witch and she was also really beautiful.  
He thought, that perhaps...not considering Marine...perhaps he could even start to love her.

"Henry?" he mumbled silently, observing Mrs. Weasley making dinner while leading a heated conversation with little Fred, who'd coloured his younger brother's hair orange again.  
The kid really seemed to be intrigued by red hair.  
Something that seemed to amuse even Percy Weasley, who seemed like the most boring humourless person he ever met.  
As if it was totally laughable to think that red hair was something you could wish to have.  
While Henry's family was way to humble for their own good.

It was already almost midnight and the small children went to bed, just Fred lingered in the living room with them, clutching a mug of cooling chocolat chaud with both hands, safely snuggled between Jan and Henry on the sofa and leaning against Henry. He was tired, but obviously not willing yet, to let go of his former guardian.  
Henry...no...Ron was talking calmly with Ginny, both of them laughed from time to time, made Jan remember how much their were alike.  
Jan watched the room get quieter and emptier, when one after another the Weasleys retired.  
When Ginny got on her feet, and demanded Fred to let her bring him to bed.  
Fred scrunched his face, but he let Henry take the mug out of his hands, and accepted an stubbly good-night kiss on the forehead before Ginny took the boy on her arms, slightly wobbly under the weight when she carried him towards the stairs.  
Jan used this moment to also retire in to one of the may guest room of the house.  
He stopped at the stairs for a moment and turned around, looking Henry, who was intently staring at the clock.  
"Don't you want to go to bet? You look dok tiret." he muttered which made his red-head friend slowly shake his head before answering weakly.  
"Harry will need me when he comes home."  
Jan snorted. He know that Henry was a team player, but this amount of devotion was too much in his opinion.  
"what woult he neet from you at that time of the night! He shoult go to bet and so shoult you." he grumbled but was cut of by Henry waving with his hand.  
"If he comes late, there was a raid to tonight. It involves probably more victims and very likely children. Harry can deal with a lot and he's a professional, but even he needs someone to help him carry the burden. He's the Golden Boy not the Man of Steel. Gold is actually a pretty soft metal."  
It was then that Jan noticed that Henry truly wasn't Henry anymore.  
That this was Ron Weasley and not Henry Dupont.  
And Ron Weasley's best friend was Harry Potter, not Jan Lockhart.  
"You don't even know if he'll come." He hoped that his hurt didn't show in his voice. Losing a dear friend was not something you could easily shrug off.  
"He will. If he's able to, he always comes to me to tell me, when there's something bugging him."

Jan rolled his eyes, muttered a affectionate _"Verdammter Sturkopf*..."_ and just wanted to go upstairs, when the floo flickered and moment later Harry Potter stumbled out of the fireplaces.  
He was covered with dirt and blood and ashes.  
Ron was on his feet and before Jan could process he'd pointed his wand towards Harry's chest and muttered "The first words I ever said to you?"  
the Auror didn't seem to mind at all that there was a wand pointed at him. He tried to flat down his gravity defying hair while murmured with a small smile.  
"Anyone sitting here? Anywhere else is full."  
The redhead put the wand back in his pocket and checked a especially big slash at Harry's left arm, where blood seeped through the damaged sleeve.  
"Bloody hell, Harry! Can't I leave you alone for a few hours without you trying to get yourself killed?!" Ron's voice broke under the power of his worries and he started to help his friend carefully out of his cloak and dress shirt.  
"Honey, would you go get the dittany from kitchen? Second shelf, left cupboard above the sink." he mumbled while examining the damage the last hours of duty have left on the Auror's body.  
Jan nodded and made his way to the kitchen.

He comes back with the potion phial and a bottle of Ogden's Firewhisky.  
He's a bar owner. He believes in the superior healing power of well-dosed high proof alcoholic beverages.  
He filled three tumblers with the golden liquid and watched Harry taking a few sips and his face relaxing.  
Ron started to let small small drops of dittany tincture on the biggest cuts on Harry's neck, chest and arms and they start to close until they looked like they were already a few days old.  
They both seemed to be so used to the procedure that no word were needed.  
"How many?" muttered Ron and checking the upper body for a last time before he gave Harry one of the blanket to cover himself.  
Harry took a few sips of whiskey before answering.  
Jan was thinking for a few moments if he should go upstairs and leave Harry and Ron alone, but neither of them seemed to mind him being there.  
"two accomplices, a woman and a man. The woman's probably the main culprit. Pugnus was her foster child. Nasty old hag she is." Harry grunted and twirling his wand nervously in his hands.  
"They didn't randomly kidnap people though. There were 5 victims still living when we broke in and all have had at least two squibs somewhere in their ancestry. We still didn't manage to clear the gigantic garden and we've found already around 20 skeletons from the late 60ies 'til today, mostly adults, young and male. The majority died during the time first Wizarding war. One female toddler, but we suspect this must be the Pugnus' foster sister. The age fits."  
Jan was bit shocked about how relaxed his friend seemed to listening. He seemed disturbingly okay with hearing of the death of so many people.  
"the survivors? Age? Condition?" Ron muttered watching the fireplace, gently cradling his glass of whisky.  
"two men, one thirty, one around seventy...the second one died on us when we tried to move him. They drugged them up to the point they were basically vegetables. At least one of the children was his grand child, probably two. One was probably born in captivity, the Mother died in that hell house. Found her corpse in the laboratory. Father's unknown. I'm sure one of them will be a witch. When I tried to take her out of her cage, she basically attempted to rip me open."  
Ron stayed quiet and Jan still was way to shocked to process the whole atrocity to take part in the conversation.

"The man knew about the Wizard World. Had one girl in Hogwarts. She went to South America after the war. Two years younger than us, a Slytherin. The kids are from her sister."  
Ron nodded and Jan noticed that he slightly leaned against Harry.  
A bit too close for it to be just brotherly.  
"Do you remember a Mafalda Prewett?"  
Ron snorted.  
"Annoying as hell she was...but bloody talented. Have seen her a snoop around Hermione to find out what books she read. I think she liked her...So the the old man was Mum's second degree cousin? The stockbroker? Seems like all his money didn't make him happy after all."  
mused Ron.  
"His dying wish was to inform his cousin Molly and ask her to find some safe place for the children. He may be a prick. But he did care for his family."  
Harry mumbled and and looked at Ron.  
Jan suddenly felt awfully out of place, there was something weirdly intimate about how the men leaned against each other and stared in each others eyes.  
He quietly got on his feet and made his way to the stairs.  
"And then there was a teenager. Orphan boy, Mother was the child of two squibs, father unknown. He was in pretty bad shape, but the healers say He'll survive and his mind can be modified without big problems. The Ministry will have an eye on him for the next years." he heard Harry say before to fa away to understand what they said anymore.

When he reached the stairhead, a slim hand pulled him in one of the rooms.  
Ginny was already wearing her nightgown and her long red hair was put in a lose braid to keep it contained during the night.  
"Do you understand now, why this whole thing is so difficult?" she muttered.  
"I always knew that Harry looked at Ron that way and I thought he was happy with me anyway...but in the end I was just lying to myself. I've born his three children, knowing that I'm not the one for him and that Ron never would even dare to consider thinking about the spouse of one of his siblings in that way. Even if it is his best friends."  
she pulled him next her on the edge of the bed.  
"I'm done lying, Jan. I'm done believing in the one true love. I just want to feel desired again."  
Jan sighed and looked down on his hands.  
He thought of Marine, who didn't even know his name anymore and who tried to kill their child, because she was so scared that it made her go mental.  
He thought of all the time waited for his life to go on, for her to come home.  
"I...I think I understand what you mean. Perhaps...we coult try helpink each other...you know...tryink to love ourself again...I really like you. You're a great woman, you're funny and intelligent...if it's okay for you..."  
She smiled at him and nodded.  
He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently with a shy grin and a kiss on the cheek he went to his room.  
He'd make sure she enjoyed spending time with him.  
She'd been sad long enough.  
Ginny deserved to be loved for herself, not for being Ron Weasley's sister.

* * *

*Verdammter Sturkopf: literally "damn stubborn head"


End file.
